


Freelance Good Guys: The Lycanthrope's Laboratory

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [31]
Category: Looming Gaia
Genre: Action/Adventure, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Captivity, Drama, Explicit Language, Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Medical Torture, Sexual Content, Team as Family, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25625236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: Something shady is happening at the World Athenaeum. The Freelance Good Guys stumble upon a dark operation and must ask for help from a reluctant ally.
Series: Looming Gaia [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/833844
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Split Apart

**Author's Note:**

> For art, discussions, memes and more, check out the Looming Gaia blog: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost
> 
> This story ties in heavily with "Ratbone Throne", so you should read that first or this one won't make much sense. Enjoy!

**[CHAPTER 1: SPLIT APART]**

_EARLY AUTUMN, 6007_

The Freelance Good Guys received a contract from the Matuzan city of Pukmur. The job was barely worth their time, and Evan would have rejected it under normal circumstances.

But these were not normal circumstances. Pukmur was only a stone’s throw away from Uekoro, and Evan desperately needed an excuse to visit Jelani.

After all this time, he finally mustered the courage to end their one-sided relationship. He practiced his speech over and over to himself, had rehearsed every possible outcome in his head, had made backup plans for his backup plans in case things went awry…

Now Evan was ready, he was sure of it. He knew this conversation was going to be painful no matter what he did, and he knew it would hurt Jelani deeply. But it would hurt him harder the longer Evan let this drag on. It was best to put this to rest as soon as possible.

The contract in Pukmur was finished in less than a day. It was but a two-man job at most, but Evan brought his five favorite crewmen along for the ride anyway. He didn’t need their support for such an easy contract. He just felt he might need them if things went sideways in Uekoro.

Shadow touched down in Uekoro’s dragonport. Isaac climbed out of her saddle, then Evan, Lukas, Glenvar, Alaine, and Jeimos stepped out of her gazebo. They paid an attendant to stable the roc, then the six mercenaries hired a carriage to the palace.

They had washed away the grime of their last job and changed out of their armor, making themselves as presentable as possible for the king. They couldn’t afford to mess this up; there was simply too much on the line. Making an enemy of Matuzan royalty was a move they’d regret for years to come, assuming they survived to see them.

Lukas’ eyes shifted towards Evan, sitting across from him in the carriage. The captain’s nails were digging into his knees, threatening to tear right through the fabric of his pants. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripped down his face, staining the neck and pits of his cotton shirt.

While Uekoran summers were certainly brutal, Lukas knew Evan’s nerves were responsible for the sticky state of him. His face was drained of all color and he looked as if he’d vomit at any moment.

No one wanted to speak. They all knew the situation ahead would be awkward at best, lethal at worst. Finally, Lukas cleared his throat and assured his friend, “You’re doing the right thing, Ev.”

The captain sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils, letting it out in a sigh. “I know. It just feels awful to do. He really loves me, and this is going to break his poor heart.”

Glenvar shrugged and told him, “Better ya break it now than ten years down the line, when yer both reachin’ into the same gold-purse!”

“Don’t be nervous, Atty,” added Alaine, placing a firm hand on Evan’s shoulder. “No matter what happens, we’re behind you all the way.”

Evan placed a hand over hers. His palm was hot as a furnace and wet as a lake. “Thanks, guys,” he creaked, then his crew cried out in disgust as he suddenly doubled over and spilled vomit between his boots.

They arrived at Fanaka palace in minutes. The crew exited the carriage, tipped the driver some extra coins for the mess, then made their way up to the grand double-doors. The guards recognized their faces and let them pass without question.

They were all welcome to drop by any time, Jelani told them. Still, it wasn’t like Evan to make a surprise visit like this. He just had to take advantage of his courage while it still lingered. It was waning more and more with every step he took into the palace.

The mercenaries stopped in the foyer, standing before the fine, curving staircase to the second floor. There an elven slave stood at attention, greeting them with a shallow bow of his head.

“Excuse me,” began Evan, voice quivering like a leaf, “do you know where Jelani is? I-I have to speak with him. Uh, right now. It’s urgent.”

“Ah, Master Evan! The king is always so delighted to see you,” replied the elf. “I believe he retired to his chamber just a few minutes ago.”

Evan thanked him, then turned to his crew and said, “You guys should probably stay here. This might take a while.”

“We’ll be here whenever you return, Mr. Atlas,” said Jeimos. “Best of luck to you.”

“To all of us,” the captain muttered, then he reluctantly made his way up the stairs.

Over the last two years, this relationship had grown into a mighty beast looming over his life. Evan decided the best way to slay it was with honesty. Jelani really had been good to him during their time together, despite his shortcomings. Evan owed him the truth: that he simply didn’t love him back.

There was a time when he thought he did. He was blinded by desperation then. Loneliness had plagued Evan’s life for a long, long time. He desired a lover who would accept him for all his many quirks and faults, and lovers like that were in short supply. He desired someone who was honest, kind, understanding, someone who wanted the same simple, rural kind of life he did.

Jelani missed the mark on all points, and the more Evan thought about it, the more ashamed he was of himself. He let his own carnal lust string them both along for far too long. Jelani was blessed with the Fanaka beauty tenfold. Wherever the man walked, all eyes followed. But upon further reflection, Evan realized that was about all the man had going for him.

Jelani was as handsome as a master’s sculpture with all the charm of a seasoned bard. He was also dishonest and manipulative, and though he’d never raised a hand at Evan before, it turned Evan’s stomach every time he beat his slaves for some minor infraction. Evan always begged him to stop and Jelani would promise not to lay hands on them anymore, only to break his promise every time, flippantly asking forgiveness as if it meant nothing at all.

There was a good man hiding somewhere inside Jelani. Evan caught glimpses of that man from time to time, but he was clawing against a wall of hard calluses left behind by his family’s abuse. Jelani refused to say much about his childhood, but Evan knew this to be true because Lukas told him the horror stories over the years.

The brothers’ souls were both tattered and scarred. Their pain just revealed itself in different ways: Jelani’s in fits of violent anger, and Lukas’ in stretches of crippling depression.

Evan approached the tall, ornate wooden door at the end of the corridor. It was carved with majestic images of flowers, elephants, and _setsiki_ —the door to Jelani’s bedchamber. Evan raised his fist to knock on it as he stepped closer. Then he stopped in his tracks, knuckles hovering just above the wood.

He heard voices inside. One of them was Jelani’s, and the other was an unfamiliar woman. Evan froze, furrowing his brow as he listened. His lycanthrope ears heard Jelani growling and cursing through the heavy door. The woman whined and gasped alongside him, and if Evan didn’t know better, he’d think Jelani was in there pummeling one of his slaves again.

But he did know better. He spent the last two years in the man’s bed.

Evan wrenched the doorknob and stormed through the threshold. Light from the corridor poured in, shining a spotlight on the massive bed and the two naked figures on it. The noise came to an abrupt stop. Two sets of eyes rounded at Evan, gleaming in the dim candlelight.

Evan’s eyes were just as round as he looked straight at Jelani, arched over a woman he’d never seen before. She was plump and beautiful, a human, probably Lagaal in origin with her copper skin and coiled brown hair. Her bare legs were wrapped tightly around Jelani’s waist.

A silence passed between the three of them, so heavy that it crushed Evan’s chest and sucked the air from his lungs. His jaw hung open, eyes unblinking as they shifted between Jelani and the woman, back and forth repeatedly. He didn’t believe his eyes. Rather, he didn’t _want_ to believe them.

But there was no denying what he saw. It was right in front of him, plain as day.

“Really,” Evan said quietly, more of a statement than a question. His throat felt like a desert.

Jelani quickly disentangled himself from the woman. She covered herself with the sheets while he scrambled off the bed, reaching for his clothes on the floor. “Evan, hold on—” he began, but Evan was already out the door in an instant. It slammed shut behind him, echoing all the way down the long corridor.

The mercenary captain stood there for a second or two, unsure of where to go or what to do. His brain was still processing what his eyes had delivered. He found himself gravitating towards the wall, where he folded his arms against the rough stone and pressed his head on top of them like a child in time-out.

How convenient, he thought. So very convenient for Jelani to simplify this breakup for him! Now Evan was perfectly justified in breaking things off, and Jelani no longer had the right to be angry about it!

Why then was he so upset? A deep ache radiated through Evan’s chest as his heart sank down into the acid of his stomach. Or so it felt.

Seconds later, the door quickly opened and shut. Jelani passed through in a hurry, rushing towards Evan in the corridor. He was half-dressed in cotton pants and little else, save for the gold earrings that never left his ears.

Evan didn’t even pay him a glance, face still pressed against his forearms as Jelani panted, “Evan, love, don’t be like this! Come on now, you have no right to be upset!”

“No right? What are you saying?” Evan barked, finally whipping his head towards the king. He turned his whole body around to face him. Thrusting a finger towards the door, he bellowed, “I just caught you in bed with a stranger and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”

Aggression was creeping into Jelani’s tone when he explained, “Two years! We’ve been together two long years, and you’ve spent most of that time running all over Gaia instead of in this palace with me! Am I supposed to be okay with _that_?”

“If you were unhappy with our relationship, then you should’ve ended it like a man!” Evan shouted back. His own words made him cringe. The irony wasn’t lost on him one bit.

Jelani argued back, “ _You_ should have proposed to me like a man! We were supposed to talk about marriage months ago, but you kept saying ‘later, later, this isn’t a good time, we’ll talk about it later’. Later has come and gone a thousand times, love! You can’t possibly expect me to wait forever!”

“That’s exactly why I’m here now! I came all the way here just to talk about our relationship!” Evan shouted. His face flushed pink with equal parts anger and shame.

Jelani crossed his arms and replied, “Spit it out then! Say what you came to say, or else stop wasting my time!”

Evan took a deep breath, ready to shout something foul in his face. Jelani’s expression was hardened with anger, but his eyes told a different story. Evan noticed the subtle lines in his brow, the faint sparkle of tears. He knew that look well, could never erase it from his memory, because it had crossed Lukas’ face the day they broke up all those years ago.

The Fanaka twins were identical indeed. Evan could have sworn he was back in Southriver Wood, severing things with Lukas all over again. Though he didn’t love Jelani the way he loved Lukas, the look in the man’s eyes cut deep all the same.

Evan closed his mouth, releasing his deep breath through his nostrils. He decided not to weaponize it after all. Instead, he quieted his tone and said as calmly as he could muster, “Jelani, it’s…it’s over. It was over long before this, and you—ugh, you were right. I haven’t been a man about it. I wasn’t happy with you, so I should have been the one to speak up. I was a coward. I’m sorry.”

The lines in Jelani’s brow softened. “You weren’t happy with me?” The question was probably meant to be accusatory, but it was too bogged down by sadness to sting.

Swiping at his hot neck, Evan admitted, “No, I was! You’ve been a wonderful friend to me, and my only regret over these last two years is that I wasted your time. But I enjoyed that time with you, I really did. I just came to realize that…”

He sighed again, dropping his hand to his side. “…you just weren’t the right one for me. I mean, I’m a backwater sellsword and you’re Matuzan royalty. Clearly we’re unable to compromise, so perhaps it’s best for both of us if we go our separate ways.”

“Unable to compromise? You never even made an attempt!” snapped Jelani. “I was willing to do anything it took to get you into Uekoro, even if it meant emptying my coffers to move your entire company! It was you who refused to compromise!”

“Jelani, we’ve been over this! I can’t just pack up and move my entire crew across the globe!”

“You _can_ ,” insisted Jelani, jabbing his finger against the captain’s chest, “but for some reason, you _won’t_! There’s no way that podunk crew of yours wouldn’t jump at the chance to live in a palace, versus whatever hovels you’ve got them living in now!”

“They wouldn’t all come with me, I’m telling you! I know them far better than you do!” Evan told him. His volume was rising, anger sneaking its way back into his tone.

Jelani rolled his eyes and said, “Then those ones are fools! You should let them go for their stupidity alone!”

“That’s ridiculous, I’m not doing that!”

“So you care for your employees more than your lover!”

“They’re not employees, they’re my friends! They’re my _family_!” Evan told him through his teeth.

Jelani leaned forward, voice strained with frustration, “If they were your family, then they’d be willing to follow you to Uekoro, for gods’ sakes! I don’t believe this bullshit for a moment!”

Evan’s face burned with the heat of his anger. “Lukas wouldn’t follow me! He would never agree to live here and you damn well know it!” he boomed. The argument came to a halt. A cold, uncertain silence took its place.

Evan’s confidence waned. He should not have said that, he realized, and now it was too late.

Jelani took one fluid step towards him, like a snake ready to strike. “Lukas? This is about _Lukas_?” he hissed. Evan swallowed the lump in his throat. He wished he could swallow his words back down, but now they were running amok of the situation.

This had become everything he feared. He saw the telltale vein already beginning to bulge in the side of Jelani’s bald head, the one that always threatened to burst when he was throwing fists at a slave. His nostrils were flared, eyes wide and intense. The switch was triggered. Evan knew no matter what he said or did from this point forward, he couldn’t escape the king’s temper.

“Of course it is,” continued Jelani. “Of course it fucking is! Why wouldn’t it be about that little prick? Everything’s always been about him, ever since the day he was born!” He turned away from Evan with a huff, storming off for a few paces. His fists were clenched and quivering at his sides.

“Jelani, this isn’t—” Evan began.

But Jelani whirled back around and cut him off, voice booming off the vaulted ceilings, “Not another word, Atlas! That’s it! I gave you every chance in the world to salvage things with me, and you pissed away every one of them!”

“Please, don’t—”

“You’re a self-absorbed coward, just like my brother! You two are very well perfect for eachother, aren’t you?”

Each breath grew heavier, his chest heaving with rage. “Every time I find happiness in my wretched life, leave it to Lukas to barge in and rip it away from me! Again and again and _again_ , it just doesn’t stop! That man is nothing, Atlas! He’s shit on your shoes! What could he possibly offer you that I couldn’t? You haven’t a brain your fucking head, do you? You’re a fool to even consider him! You’re nothing but inbred, Evangelite trash!”

Evan saw the man bend his right elbow, drawing his fist back for a punch. He reacted in an instant, snatching the king’s wrist just before it collided with his cheek. Evan stared hard into the man’s dark eyes, squeezing his wrist just hard enough to make him wince and uncurl his fist. A silent warning.

Jelani stood before him, panting through his gnashed teeth. The two had dozens of sparring matches between them, and even in the throes of his fury, Jelani hadn’t forgotten the fact that he’d never once come out on top. Evan could destroy him without breaking a sweat. He would pay dearly for it, for certain, but it still wasn’t a path the king was willing to take.

Finally, Jelani jerked his wrist out of the man’s grip and growled, “Get the fuck out of my house, Atlas. Don’t you dare show your face in Uekoro again or I’ll have you arrested on sight! Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Evan replied flatly, already turning away. He walked down the hall, boots shuffling heavily with every step. Jelani’s entire body trembled with strain as he fought to hold back tears, watching the mercenary go.

Evan stopped near the end of the hall. He shot one last look towards Jelani, eyes burdened by sorrow. So too was his voice when he said, “I’ll miss you.”

With that, he turned the corner and disappeared.

His crew was waiting for him in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs, right where he left them. They rose from their plush chairs as he approached. “Wow, you’re back already? How did it go?” asked Alaine.

Before Evan could answer, Jelani appeared at the second floor balcony and shouted over the railing, “You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life! You’ll never find anyone better, Atlas! Never!” Then he pitched a potted plant over the balcony, stomping off as it shattered on the tiles below.

Alaine’s hairless brows arched high. “Ah. I see,” she said, and the crew made a decidedly swift exit out of the palace.

*

Heading home so soon would be a waste. Since they were already nearby, the Freelance Good Guys decided to spent a couple days in the beautiful, bustling Matuzu Capital City. Here they would rest before their long flight home.

They bought rooms at a cheap inn that night, two mercenaries to each. Lukas and Evan headed up to their room on the third floor. There wasn’t much to it but a ratty double-bed, a tiny bathroom, and a stone furnace.

“You get what you pay for, I guess…” remarked Lukas, wrinkling his nose. Evan didn’t seem to mind. He’d been lost in his own misery the moment they left Uekoro. He tossed his suitcase on the floor and began rifling through it.

There was a single glass window, wider than it was tall. The warm lights of Matuzu Capital sparkled outside. “Nice view, at least,” said Lukas. Just as he turned around, he saw Evan raise a large bottle of alcohol to his lips. He quirked an eyebrow and queried, “Are you drinking straight liquor?”

“Wan’ some?” Evan slurred, offering the bottle. His eyes were puffy with grief, fair nose tinted pink. He’d started drinking on the flight over, by the look of it.

“No, no, no, Evan, don’t—” Lukas reached out to snatch the bottle, but Evan jerked it away. The captain sucked down another swig before Lukas was able to wrestle it out of his grip. “Give me that! I am _not_ letting you fall back into your booze habit again!”

“Don’t take my things, you have no right!” demanded Evan. He seized the bottle, but Lukas refused to let go. “Damn it, Lukas, I paid for that! Give it back!”

“No! I’ve had enough of this! Look at you, you’re already drunk!”

“I am not! I’m a lycanthrope, I don’t get drunk! We have fast met—melab— _metalobism_!” Evan growled, ripping the bottle free. He gave Lukas a hard shove, sending him reeling until he hit the wall, and then he chugged the last of the drink.

Lukas pushed himself upright and argued, “You are so full of shit, it’s coming out your mouth! Gods, you’ve been hitting the flask since we left Uekoro, haven’t you?” Evan didn’t reply. He only peeked down the neck of the empty bottle, letting out a loud belch before throwing it on the floor.

Lukas continued, “You can’t just drink yourself stupid every time things don’t go your way!”

“Why not?” Evan slurred, eyes blinking out of tandem.

“Because when you drink, you get mean. And when you get mean, you pick fights,” explained Lukas, as if speaking to a child. “And when you pick fights, I have to clean up your messes and make sure no one gets killed! You’re a mean drunk, Evan! Just like your father! I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true!”

“I am not! Fuck you, you skinny-peckered rat’s ass, you take that back right now!” the captain wailed. The force of his own voice knocked him off balance and he steadied himself on the bed. Lukas slapped a palm over his eyes, dragging it down his weary face. It was worse than he thought.

“Take it back!” Evan urged.

Lukas refused, and instead tried to guide the man down into a lying position on the bed. He said calmly, “Look. I’m sorry things turned out the way they did today, but there’s no sense in making it worse. Just calm down and get some rest.”

“Get off me!” Evan growled, flailing his massive arm. Lukas backed away and he stood up, wobbling on his feet.

“Evan, please!” Lukas begged. “You know this is childish! So Jelani’s mad at you. Who cares? We never got contracts from Uekoro! Nothing was lost except a horrible relationship you were trying to lose anyway! I don’t understand why you’re so upset; you got exactly what you wanted!”

“I didn’t wanna lose him!” Evan blubbered, on the verge of tears as he thumped his forehead against the wall. “I miss ‘im, Lukas! It’s gone forever, all we had together! I should’a just married him and left the compound to you! I’m a fool, a damned fool…!”

Lukas sighed, “I know you don’t mean that. Now please, lay down before you fall down.” He reached out to the man, but once again Evan jerked away.

The captain stumbled towards the front door and grumbled, “I’d deserve it! What a miserable wretch I am, just like Papa said! I need another drink!” He reached for the doorknob and Lukas threw himself in his path.

“No way! You’re going to stay in here until you sober up!” Lukas told him. His efforts were valiant, but not very effective as Evan lifted him over his head and tossed him onto the mattress. The springs creaked noisily on impact.

“Leave me alone, you ain’t my papa! Papa’s dead! He’s dead ‘cause I killed ‘im!” Evan sobbed. He absently left the door open as he staggered down the hall, wailing drunken nonsense to himself all the while.

Lukas sprang back to his feet and stopped in the threshold. Trying to move Evan was like trying to move a mountain. There was no way he was getting the man back inside until he passed out, so Lukas decided to keep tabs on him in the meantime. He locked the door behind him, following Evan away from the inn and down the street.

He kept a respectable distance just in case. If the captain got roped into some nonsense, Lukas didn’t want anyone to think they were together. He could always bail him out of jail in the morning.

The streets of this dingy district were lit by electric lights. Short, fat palm trees lined the edges of the road. Evan smacked into one in his stupor, retaliating by punching its scaly trunk. He left a fist-sized crack in its bark before wandering off.

Lukas stuck to the shadows of nooks and alleys, moving as discreetly as a black cat in the night. He had a way of blending in, of silencing his own natural energy to become one with his environment.

There wasn’t much traffic this time of night. Fortunate, thought Lukas, as Evan kept stumbling off the sidewalk and into the road. He would have been trampled by horses or run over by a cart if it were just a few hours earlier.

There were not many people out this late either. Lukas saw some people ahead, a group of four men loitering beside an alley. They were dressed in steel armor with hoods obscuring their faces, chatting and smoking cigars. One of them held a leash, and attached to the end was a muscled mongrel with pointed ears and a docked tail. It wore a thick, spiked collar around its neck, as well as a studded leather vest.

Mercenaries, Lukas figured. Their gear was too well-maintained and uniform for them to be thugs. He didn’t expect them to give Evan trouble as he passed. Their dog, however, suddenly became agitated.

The animal whined as Evan drew near. It began to bark and tug at its leash. Evan regarded the dog and its masters with nothing more than a bleary glance. The dog’s handler pulled its leash close when the captain walked by, but the dog fought against him with unnatural ferocity. It brayed and wriggled violently, trying to escape its collar.

This did not surprise Lukas. Dogs always reacted that way around Evan. But he was surprised when one of the hooded men stepped away from the group to approach Evan. He touched the captain’s shoulder to get his attention and struck up a conversation with him.

Lukas squinted in the dim lamplight, backing himself up into a dark doorway. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but he could see the man offering something to Evan, perhaps a cigar. The dog was still going wild as the other two men surrounded him.

Then, quick as lightning, they shoved him into the alley. Evan, the men, and the dog all disappeared into the inky blackness. Lukas’ eyebrows nearly shot off his face. He drew a hidden dagger out of his boot and sprinted towards the alley, flattening himself against the brick wall before peeking through.

He heard a few muffled shouts and boots scuffling further down, but he could not see a thing. Within seconds, the shouts and barks died to silence and the footsteps grew distant. After that, Lukas heard a couple doors creak open and slam shut. Several sets of hooves clip-clopped away.

Pulling a match from his satchel, Lukas used it to light his way through the alley. He moved with haste, sweeping the little flame all around in search of Evan. He found nothing, so he ran to the end of the block.

Sure enough, a long carriage was moving down the road, pulled along by four draft horses. Lukas had no doubt that Evan was inside. But so too were the armored men, and he did not stand a chance against them alone, especially armed with nothing but a dagger.

The carriage was moving fast. There was no way Lukas could keep up with it on foot, so he chased it as far as he could before he found several horses hitched up outside a tavern. He used his blessing of stealth to steal one unnoticed, then rode away in pursuit of Evan’s captors.

Lukas did not want to appear too obvious. He guided the horse down obscure side-streets and alleyways so not to stay behind the carriage for too long, always keeping a lengthy distance between them. He could follow it by sound alone. The draft horses’ heavy hoofsteps echoed for blocks through the barren district.

Soon they passed into a different, much livelier commercial district. Lukas weaved through drunks and prostitutes for some time. The carriage was heading towards the heart of Matuzu Capital, straight down the long, straight main road.

Palm trees towered overhead, lush flowers closed up for the night. To his left, Lukas could see the grand, ivory spires of Matuzu Palace reaching high into the starry sky. Ahead, he saw the domed rooftops of the World Athenaeum sitting at the end of the road.

Lukas stopped near a great stone fountain, obscuring himself in its mist as he watched the carriage approach the Athenaeum’s front gate. Many armored guards stood watch in front of it, with even more posted along its high stone walls.

The guards pulled the iron gates open and the carriage passed through without incident. Lukas sat there atop his horse, dumbfounded. No, these were definitely no common thugs. There must have been some kind of mistake.

He dismounted his horse and led it up to the gates, raising his hand high to greet the guards. “Hello! Can you tell me about that carriage that just came through?”

“That information is classified,” one of the guards replied. He was a hulking ogre clad in iron plates. A bladed polearm was clutched in his hands.

“No, no, you don’t understand! There’s been some kind of mistake!” explained Lukas. “Those guys just snatched my friend off the street! I need to speak with someone about this immediately.”

A second guard stood at the other end of the gate. She was a slender elf armored in leather plates with a crystal-tipped staff in her hand. She said, “All visitation requests must be submitted in writing. Depending on who you’re trying to contact, you should hear something back within a week to six months.”

“Are you even listening to me?” blurted Lukas. He pointed to the gate and continued, “My friend was kidnapped! This is an emergency! Get me in contact with your supervisor, now!”

In that instant, Lukas found himself staring down the long, sharp blade of the ogre’s polearm. Just a hair closer and it would pierce through his nose. “The Athenaeum will not tolerate any threats against security personnel,” the guard rumbled.

Though his palms were raised and a blade hovered a breath away from his head, Lukas couldn’t stop his mouth from running when he snapped, “At what point did I threaten you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He stepped back when the elven guard thrusted her staff towards his belly. “I suggest you move along, sir,” she said flatly. Lukas considered throwing a snide remark back at them, perhaps even spitting on their boots. A thousand insults raced through his head, fighting to escape through his teeth.

While satisfying, Lukas knew that would not lead to Evan’s return. So he swallowed his pride, climbed onto his stolen horse, and sped away back to the inn. It seemed the crew had a new mission.

*

“…accelerated heart rate, consistent with other subjects…”

“…abnormal hair growth…make note of the gum recession as well…”

Evan’s eyelids had never felt heavier. Opening them was a chore with little reward, as he was completely blinded by the sun shining in his face. Unfamiliar voices mumbled around him, muffled and distant as if they were underwater.

“…temperature higher than average…unusual body odor similar to other subjects…”

“Stand clear. Administering silver test…”

Evan’s eyes fought to focus through the light. He tried to turn his head, but he soon realized that he couldn’t move it, nor could he move any of his limbs. He felt pressure around his wrist, ankles, and forehead. He was strapped down to a cold, smooth surface.

A vaguely human-shaped silhouette approached from the right, hovering over him with something in its hand. Evan squinted. Whoever they were, they appeared to be wearing a mask and goggles. They lowered the object, and as it got closer to his face, Evan could make out a metal ball on the end of a stick.

He recoiled as it was suddenly shoved into his mouth. Worse yet, it burned his tongue like fire on contact. Evan thrashed and squirmed in his binds. He tried to protest, but every word that left his mouth was arduous and slurred, barely intelligible. Biting down on the metal stick only hurt his teeth.

He’d gotten drunk, hadn’t he? He could vaguely remember that. Now he had no idea where he was, what was happening, or who these masked people around him were. He could hardly think straight. His thoughts were struggling through an ocean of slime.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure pulled the metal ball from Evan’s mouth. All he could taste from that point was copper. He spit a blood onto his chin.

The voices droned on, “Note the negative reaction to silver…”

“…tissue samples show abnormally high muscle density…”

“…rapid metabolism observed…administering class three sedative…”

The light above began to dim. Evan’s eyelids grew heavy again, and then the world faded into blackness.

*

The next time Evan woke, he found himself lying on the concrete floor of a jail cell. Groggily he sat up and examined his surroundings. He was closed in by three concrete walls and one wall of metal bars. The door, too, was made of solid metal with a thin slot at the bottom. He saw a water spigot sticking out of the wall, but no way of turning it on.

Below the spigot was a large drain closed off by metal bars. Evan examined the drain closer. He could faintly hear water running below, but it was too dark to see. If it weren’t for the bars, he could have surely squeezed himself through such a hole and made his escape.

But as far as he could tell, there was no way out. There was not even a window, only a single electric light buzzing quietly in the ceiling. A small cot was bolted to the floor, with only a thin mattress and no pillow or linens for comfort.

As far as jail went, he knew he could do a lot worse. He must have gotten drunk and caused some trouble last night, he figured, and only then did the shame start sinking in. He knew he’d gotten into some kind of argument with Lukas, but he could not recall what was said. He let out a heavy sigh and sat on the cot. All he could do now was wait for his crew to bail him out.

Assuming they even wanted to after the mess he made, he thought miserably.

Officers must have stripped him of his clothes, for he wore nothing but a white, cloth medical gown. Perhaps he’d injured himself, or even soiled himself in his drunken state. Neither outcome would surprise him at this point. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank so hard. His wooden leg was still attached to him, at least.

The fog slowly lifted from his mind, and then Evan noticed just how loud this cellblock was. This wasn’t his first time in jail. He was used to prisoners yelling at all hours, but somehow the sounds around him seemed louder and more chaotic than usual.

He listened for a moment. Not only were voices shouting and chattering, but beasts were snarling and howling right alongside them. Evan furrowed his brow. Guard dogs, perhaps? Curious, he stood up and peeked through the bars of the cell.

His jaw dropped at the sights before him. He could see into several cells across from him, and each one contained something more disturbing than the last. At the far right, a very hairy and muscular roshava was rapidly pacing back and forth, growling and muttering to himself. His red flesh was marred by hundreds of lesions.

In the next cell was a creature unlike anything Evan had ever seen. He wondered if it was some kind of monster, for it was a hulking thing, humanoid in shape with abnormally long arms like a great ape. It was covered in haphazard patches of thick fur, the rest of it left bare. Its maw was elongated like some kind of animal and full of sharp teeth, but otherwise its face was quite human-like. This creature was darting around its cell on its knees and knuckles, panting hard and leaving a trail of frothy drool in its wake.

Evan could see into one more cell. Inside was a dworf, and he could not tell their sex due to the massively long, unruly beard that draped from their face to their knees, covering everything beneath. It was black in color and their flesh was a cool gray tone. Their stubby fingers clutched the bars as they stared back at Evan with their pink eyes.

“Oh, new guy! You’re finally up! Talk to me!” the dworf exclaimed. Female, Evan determined by her voice.

Evan leaned closer to the bars, raising his voice over the chaos as he asked, “Hello there! I, uh…I think I may have had too much to drink last night. Do you know where we are?”

“This is the Infectious Disease Research Center,” the dworf replied brightly. “I take it you didn’t come willingly?”

“Er, no,” Evan replied slowly, looking all around.

The dworf replied, “Well, I did! Have you met Dr. Lendon yet? He’s a brilliant man, he’s gonna fix us up! Don’t you worry!” She punctuated herself with a laugh, ragged and anxious.

Evan wasn’t any less confused than he was five minutes ago. “Infectious Disease…?” he trailed off. “Why are we here? What are they doing with us?”

The dworf’s lips seemed frozen in a smile as she explained, “It’s a research facility! They research diseases! Dr. Lendon’s going to cure lycanthropy, and all us mutts get to be part of it! We’re going to be cured! Cured, right here, for free!”

“What?” Evan blurted. He swept his gaze over the other cells again. He realized the dworf was a lycanthrope just like him, for even dworfs were not typically as hairy and well-muscled as she. The pacing roshava, also afflicted with lycanthropy. And the monster in the center cell…

Evan still could not explain what it was. But if he had to make an assumption, he assumed he was looking at a lycanthrope that was somehow stuck in a state of mid-transformation. His blood suddenly felt cold. He staggered away from the bars and lost his footing, falling on his behind.

“Hey! Where’d you go? New guy?” queried the dworf. Evan stared into space, trying to process what little he’d learned. It was so little information, yet so much to take in. The dworf continued, “Don’t be upset! A lot of the folks in here cry and moan about the testing, but it’s all going to be worth it! I swear to you, it will! We’ll all walk out of here with our old lives back! Can you even imagine?”

Evan sat in silence for some time. Finally he scrambled back to his feet and clutched the bars again, telling the dworf, “I need to get out of here! W-what do I do? Who do I need to talk to?”

“You want to _leave_?” she snapped back. “Guy, listen to what I’m telling you! Dr. Lendon _needs_ our help to make this cure! Imagine your life before this horrible disease. Remember how happy and carefree you were? Remember all the friends you had? If you stay here, you will have it all back. Every one of us will have our lives back!”

Evan growled, “I don’t even know how on Gaia I got here in the first place! I don’t care what these quacks are trying to do, I never agreed to any of it! Now I’ll ask you again: who must I speak with in order to get out of here?”

The dworf hesitated. “You should talk to Dr. Lendon. You’ll meet him soon enough, and he’ll explain this stuff a lot better than I can. That man is a genius! You’ll see!”

*

Apparently Evan wasn’t the only one getting drunk last night. Lukas spent hours trying to rouse the other crewmen, and once they sobered up, they all donned their armor and ventured into the city at sunrise.

They tried again to enter the World Athenaeum, where they were politely told to get lost. “But we’ve been here before! We know Destiny, you can ask her!” argued Isaac. He even pulled her Tome of Infinity from his satchel as proof, and still the guards wouldn’t budge.

Evan’s absence meant Lukas was automatically promoted to captain of the crew. He decided they should split up to gather as much information as they could, then meet back at the plaza around high sun.

Lukas knew the richest sources of gossip would be the local watering holes. Most of them were closed at this early hour except those in the Aquarian District, where most folk were nocturnal. The Aquarian District was at a lower elevation than the rest of the city. It was almost entirely flooded by Central Lake, with stone walkways and docks rising above the water for the convenience of Terrians.

Most of the buildings were flooded or completely submerged in the water, each one marked by tall columns jutting up from the surface. Lukas stepped off the main road and made his way down the creaky steps of a dock, which led into a flooded tavern. He accepted that he’d just have to get his knees wet as he stepped inside.

The interior was the darkest he’d ever seen in a public building. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was closed. But he saw many sets of glowing eyes floating through the darkness like fireflies, those of chattering cecaelia and sirenes. He heard them splashing through the shallow water and the constant clinking of glass.

The smell of the patrons was almost overpowering to Lukas’ Terrian nose. Most taverns reeked of booze, smoke, and vomit, but this one smelled more like a fish market than anything.

Cecaelia were a very long-lived people, so if anyone had information, Lukas figured it would be them. Some had probably been living in this city for over a thousand years. There was a group of them chatting away in a small pool near the back of the room.

Lukas approached them and said, “Excuse me. My name’s Lukas, I’m with the Freelance Good Guys. Our captain was kidnapped last night and I’m desperate for information. Do you know anything about these men?”

He pulled a notebook from his back pocket and showed them his sketch. He’d drawn the armored men from memory. “They had a dog,” he added, “and they were all wearing the same armored robes. They took off in a carriage pulled by four brown draft horses.”

The group of cecaelia leaned their heads closer to the notebook, reluctant to touch it with their wet hands. “What kind of dog was it?” one of them asked. Lukas was caught off-guard by the question. He wasn’t exactly a dog expert—didn’t know the first thing about them.

He replied, “Huh? Oh, I don’t know. It was pretty big. Had short, black hair with maybe some brown on it? Its neck was bigger than its head, looked like it could really mess someone up if it wanted to. Uh, and it had no tail.”

“Hm. Sounds like a lycan sniffer hound,” deduced one cecaelia.

“A what?” queried Lukas.

Another cecaelia explained, “Matuzan Disease Control uses those to sniff out werewolves, I think. One of the human sailors I work with keeps a retired sniffer hound as a pet. They’re obnoxious beasts, if you ask me…”

Lukas paused, brow wrinkling in thought. He was vaguely familiar with Disease Control. He remembered an incident that occurred while he was attending school at the World Athenaeum’s college so many years ago, when one of the students contracted a disease called “floraspell” out in the jungle. A big letter was sent out to everyone in the school, encouraging them to report any rashes or plant growth from the skin.

The Disease Control task force showed up and snatched the student away into quarantine. Lukas and all the other students were forced to strip down and line up while masked personnel sprayed them with sea water in the game field.

It was a bizarre and humiliating experience, but Lukas hadn’t given it a second thought until this moment.

“Tell me about this Disease Control thing. What do they do, exactly?” he asked.

“Well, they control diseases,” said one cecaelia.

Another added, “When a werewolf gets loose or there’s a vampire in the city, they’re the guys who show up to take care of it.”

“I heard they’ve been in the Gaian District a lot lately, trying to get some bloodborne virus under control,” said the third cecaelia. He shook his head and muttered, “I’m not prejudiced or anything, but if those people would just _bathe_ once in a while, they wouldn’t have so many ticks…”

“Wait,” said Lukas, “so what reason would they have to just grab my friend off the street?”

“Not sure. Was he sick?”

“No!”

“He must have been,” insisted one cecaelia, “or they would have no reason to take him. Maybe he had vampirism. Vampires can hide their disease very well with magic, you know.”

“He’s not a vampire! He can’t be. He…” Lukas paused. Then he asked, “What if someone had lycanthropy? That’s not a crime in this kingdom, right?” Lukas thought he was familiar with Matuzan law, unless something changed since he left.

The cecaelia looked at one another, exchanging shrugs. One turned back to Lukas and answered, “Not to my knowledge. Are they still doing the one-strike rule?”

“Yes, I believe so,” said another. “In Matuzu Capital at least, lycanthropes are allowed their freedom until they cause a public health incident. Then I think they’re quarantined for life.”

Lukas worked this new information over and over in his brain. It still wasn’t adding up. Evan did have lycanthropy, but aside from stumbling around like a fool, he hadn’t caused any incidents whatsoever. The full moon was over two weeks away.

He asked, “Where are they quarantined?”

“I don’t know. The prison, probably. If your friend caused some kind of legal problem, I imagine they’d have to process it through the justice system first anyway.”

“Yeah, check the prison!”

“Good idea,” the group of cecaelia chattered brightly. They clinked their steins, pleased with their own detective work.

Lukas figured that was probably his best bet, so he thanked them before seeing himself out of the tavern. His wet boots squelched all the way back to the city plaza, marked by the great elephant statue spouting water from its trunk. A mosaic of stained glass was embedded into the statue’s surface. It gleamed like a colossal gem as the sun rose higher.

There Lukas waited for his crewmen to return. In the meantime, he bought a kebab from a nearby vendor. Chunks of mango and dolphin meat were skewered upon it, and he washed it all down with a hardtack cup full of coffee. The coffee softened the hardtack enough to eat, but it was still not worth the effort to Lukas. He threw the cup in the plaza and watched as a rainbow of colorful birds descended upon it.

One by one, his crewmen arrived. Glenvar was the last to show up, well after the time they agreed upon. “Glen! You were supposed to be here an hour ago!” scolded Lukas.

“Yes, Mr. Thunderhorn, your tardiness has put my anxiety in a terrible flare!” added Jeimos, gloved hands still trembling before them. “I thought for certain that you and Mr. Atlas had _both_ been kidnapped!”

“Damn, _stiras_ , untwist yer britches! I only stopped fer a couple’a drinks!” Glenvar told them flippantly. His speech was slurred ever so slightly, but that was hardly unusual for him on any given day.

“Why were you at the tavern?” snapped Alaine. “You were supposed to be looking for Evan, you dumbass!”

“I _was_ lookin’ fer him, ya _kirksleker_!” Glenvar shouted back. “I asked every person who stepped in the place and nobody saw nothin’! Would’a been a total waste of time if I didn’t get a beer or two!”

Lukas sighed, “Well, at least I got some decent information. Come on, let’s hop on a carriage and get to the prison. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

The Matuzu Capital Prison sat on a small island in Central Lake. The only way in or out was by way of a long, narrow bridge with plenty of guardsmen patrolling its length. Even the surrounding waters were patrolled by Aquarian guards. They were armored sirenes and cecaelia, occasionally surfacing to survey the shore before disappearing back into the water.

The five mercenaries flashed their passports to the guards before they were allowed to step through the doors. They entered a reception area that reminded them more of a hotel than a prison, with all its warm hues and potted greenery.

Lukas cleared his throat as he stepped up to the faunish receptionist. “Excuse me,” he began, “our friend went missing last night and—”

“Name, age, sex, species?” the fauness asked impatiently, opening a fat book on the desk. Her hair was white with age, round glasses slipping off her short, flat nose.

Lukas answered, “Uh, Evan Foster Atlas. Human male, age forty-ish.”

“You say he was arrested last night?” asked the fauness. Her slender fingers flipped through pages with a hypnotic kind of speed and grace.

“Yes. We think Disease Control took him,” replied Lukas.

The receptionist hummed a dull noise of acknowledgement as she searched through her book. She passed back and forth through pages several times, squinting hard at the text. Finally, she pushed her glasses up and told them, “No, I’m afraid he’s not here.”

The mercenaries let out a collective groan. Lukas stepped away from the desk, scrubbing his fingers against his aching eyes. “Damn it,” he muttered. “What did those bastards do with him?”

“Wait,” blurted Isaac, rushing up to the counter. “Is there anyone named Natoma here?”

“Age, sex, species?” asked the receptionist, already walking her fingertips over the pages.

Isaac told her, “Uh, I don’t know how old she is. She’s a nymph. A faunae, so probably pretty old?”

“Oh!” The fauness suddenly flipped the book shut. “Gods help me, I know exactly who you’re talking about…What business do you have with _that_ wretch?”

“Yes, Isaac, I’d like to know too,” mentioned Lukas. There was an impatient edge to his tone.

The young mercenary ignored him and told the receptionist, “We’d just like to visit her, please.”

Shaking her head, the receptionist scrawled something on a notebook and mumbled, “I can put in a visitation request, but why you’d want to talk to that nutcase is beyond me. You do know what she’s in for, don’t you?”

“Of course,” replied Isaac. “We were the ones who arrested her in the first place!”

The fauness’ thin brows arched high. “Is that true? My goodness, you’re lucky to be alive! She murdered an Athenaeum researcher, you know!”

Isaac sighed. “Trust me, we know…”

The mercenaries waited in the reception area for nearly an hour before a guard called for them. They were frisked for their weapons, then they were escorted through a long corridor, down several floors in an elevator, and through a cellblock full of screaming prisoners banging on their iron doors. Finally, they passed through an even heavier iron door at the end of the block, where an ogre guard was waiting.

The ogre used three different keys to open the door, then waved the mercenaries through. “You have ten minutes with her,” he warned them. “I’ll be watching through the window, so don’t try anything funny.”

Before they knew it, the Freelance Good Guys found themselves locked in a cell with none other than Natoma, the so-called Rat Queen. Just over a year ago, she was terrorizing the World Athenaeum with her army of enchanted rats. Now, she couldn’t have been more helpless.

She was strapped to an iron chair which was bolted to the concrete floor. Her hairy, pawed feet were bound tightly together by iron shackles and attached to a ring in the floor. Both leather straps and iron cuffs affixed her arms, thighs, and even her neck to the chair. She was just as immobile as the first time they met her, trapped on her throne by a hideous shroud of death and rot.

She’d put on some weight since then and much of her hair had grown back. She looked quite different, but her course voice was unmistakable when she greeted them, “Oh, look who’s come to visit! Have you ignorant fools discovered the error of your ways? Have you finally come to set things right, or are you simply here to waste my time?”

“You’re immortal. What does time mean to you?” snapped Lukas.

“It means _everything_ ,” the faunae hissed. “Every minute I waste in this cesspit is another minute my friends suffer at the hands of the Athenaeum!”

Isaac stepped forward and said, “Yeah, about that…Destiny mentioned something about animal testing. She also said they were working on a cure for lycanthropy, and our lycanthrope friend just happened to get captured by some Disease Control guys. Can you tell us anything about that?”

“Oooh, so the suffering of my friends means nothing, but when it’s _your_ friends, suddenly you’re all up in arms!” growled Natoma.

“Natoma, please,” Isaac begged, dropping to one knee as he did when she still wore her crown of filth. “I’m sorry about your friends. You shouldn’t be in this cell, and you have every right to be upset with the Athenaeum...”

He shook his head a little, black curls dangling in his face. “It didn’t feel right to arrest you last year. Destiny told me some stuff about their research that sounded a little, uh…Well _,_ I think you were right. They’re doing something shady in those labs, and if you just talk to us, we might be able to make a difference. Please?”

Natoma regarded them all with a cold, hard stare. After a moment, her lips curved into a smile and split apart, revealing her sharp, yellow fangs. “Finally, you understand,” she said. “I will tell you anything you need to know.”

“Tell us where they took our friend,” demanded Lukas.

Natoma said, “Ah, yes, the mongrel-man. I remember his stench. I could smell Cerno’s disease all over him. No doubt the sniffer hounds could too! The Athenaeum hires thugs to capture animals out of the jungle, but they’re not above snatching people as well. They take them to the testing facility. It’s deep in the bowels of the Athenaeum’s medical research wing.”

Her grin remained as she continued, “But you’ll never get in there. They’ve got your friend caged like an animal. They’re injecting him with all manner of terrible poisons as we speak! Poking him, prodding him, torturing him! They won’t stop until it kills him. How does it feel, knowing that no one cares to help him? They probably think him vermin anyway, with his disease and all—”

“Shut up!” growled Lukas. He lunged forward to strike her, but his crewmen restrained him.

Natoma said, “Go ahead and hit me! Curse me, beat me, kill me! It will not help your friend, nor mine!”

Suddenly the heavy door squeaked open. The ogre poked his head in and rumbled, “You got five minutes left! Hurry it up!” Then he disappeared, slamming the door behind him.”

Natoma hesitated before she whispered, “Listen to me. I can get your friend out for you, but I can’t do it from in here. You need to break me out of this prison.”

The mercenaries looked at one another, puzzled. “And how do ya expect us to pull that shite off?” asked Glenvar.

“Gold,” the nymph answered quickly. “This is Matuzu Kingdom. Money talks, and it’s a language all Matuzans speak fluently. Come up with enough of it and you can accomplish anything here. You wouldn’t believe the cretins they’ve let loose for a little sack of coin…”

“You killed a famed Athenaeum researcher, Natoma,” Lukas reminded her flatly. “They’re not letting you out for anything.”

Spittle flew from Natoma’s mouth when she hissed back, “What do you know? You’re an infant! You haven’t even seen a century of life and you have the gall to question me? She who has watched this kingdom rise from a single hut in the mud, who has blessed Lady Karenza before anyone knew her name, who has endured centuries of pain and grief? I know how this world works, you little imbecile, so either get me out of here or say goodbye to your friend!”

Lukas took a step back, face blanching. Isaac turned to him and whispered, “We don’t have a choice! We need to get Evan out of there or they’re gonna kill him!”

The rest of his crew stared at him, the air heavy with their expectations. After a sigh and a little groan of defeat, Lukas asked, “How much gold are we talking here?”

“One hundred thousand, no less,” Natoma told him.

The mercenaries’ eyes bugged all at once. Lukas blurted, “What? Ugh, fuck! We’ll never have that kind of money!”

“You could always borrow it,” suggested Natoma. “Don’t one of you have a rich uncle or something? Think hard! No price is too high for the lives of our loved ones!”

A silence passed over the mercenaries. They glanced warily at eachother, for they were all thinking the same thing but none of them wanted to say it aloud. Their gazes fixated on Lukas, who refused to look back at them.

He buried his face in his hands, groaning into his palms, “Oh no…”

“Lukas, we have to ask your b—”

“Don’t say it, Jeimos! Don’t even say it!” Lukas snapped back, dropping his arms to his sides. “That’s not an option! No!”

“It’s our _only_ option, Lu!” urged Alaine.

Glenvar added, “Whatever bad blood you got between ya, mop it up quick, ‘cause I ain’t stayin’ on this crew if yer the new captain! I’d rather take orders from a pot of piss!”

Lukas barked back at them, “Do you guys have brain damage? Evan managed to screw things up so bad, we’re not even allowed in Uekoro anymore! Forget it, it’s not happening! I don’t care if we have to rob a bank; we’ll find another way!”

“But we don’t have time!” Isaac began, interrupted when the door squeaked open again.

The ogre beckoned them out with a sweep of his massive hand. “Visiting time’s over! Let’s go!” he called.

The mercenaries silently walked out of the prison. They all knew what they had to do, but any chance of accomplishing it lied entirely with Lukas. When they reached the end of the long bridge, the archer let out a groan and muttered, “Fine. I guess we’re going back to Uekoro then.”

*

“Feeding time, mongrels!” someone called from the corridor. Evan watched as an armored guard pushed a cart of food down the corridor. He stopped to slip trays through the bottom slot of each cell door, prisoners howling excitedly.

Evan impatiently clutched the bars of his cell. Once the guard was in earshot, he called, “Excuse me! My name is Evan Atlas! I need to speak with Dr. Lendon immediately!”

The guard ignored him as he pushed another tray through. Evan called for his attention again and again, but he got no reply. All he got was a metal tray piled with seared meat, awaiting him on the concrete floor.

Evan’s dignity begged him to kick the food back under the door in protest. But his lycanthrope hunger won that battle every time, and he found himself shoving fistfuls of shredded pork into his mouth like a ravenous animal.

As far as prison food went, he could do a lot worse. He shuddered when he remembered the pitiful meals thrown at him in the Dusk clan’s dungeon. Evan sat on the floor with the tray in his lap. He was so fixated on his meal that he didn’t notice the guard standing outside his cell, loading a dart into a blowgun.

“Ow! Hey!” Evan exclaimed when the dart pierced his bicep. He quickly ripped it out, but it was too late. Within seconds, whatever drug they’d injected began to take effect. Evan dropped the dart and scrambled backwards until he hit the wall. His cell was spinning around him, faster and faster. He collapsed on the floor.

He never noticed the second figure appear outside his cell. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a long, white coat. His skin was brown and textured like leather, hair and graying sideburns in need of a trim. He clasped his hands behind his back, silently watching Evan writhe on the floor.

The captain’s heart rate doubled, pulse pounding in his throat. He was rapidly losing consciousness as his eyes rolled back into his head, chest heaving with ragged breaths. He clawed towards the ceiling and his body thrashed violently. White, frothy saliva bubbled out of his mouth, spraying forth with each beastly snarl he uttered.

Fur sprouted out of Evan’s flesh, from all but his hands, feet, and mouth. His mouth elongated into a hairless maw while his teeth extended to sharp points. The cell was noisy with the grotesque crackling of his bones. This was no different than his transformation into the Big Bad Wolf under each full moon.

But this was not a night of the full moon. It was not even dark outside yet. Evan thrashed on the floor for several minutes. Then, something unusual happened. The man in the white coat raised his brows, jotting something down in a small notebook when Evan’s newly-sprouted fur began to shed.

The strands ripped away easily each time he rubbed against the concrete, leaving great, bare patches all over his skin. His sharp teeth shortened and so too did his maw, but not into their original human shapes.

Evan was suspended in a strange in-between phase of his transformation. His eyes were still rolled back, likely not conscious for a moment of it, but his violent flailing and snarling indicated some kind of agony regardless. His muscles had expanded only in certain areas, leaving one arm longer and bulkier than the other. His right leg stump expanded too, causing his prosthetic to fall off.

How long this nightmare lasted was unknown to Evan. He awoke on the floor next to an empty metal tray. Both the guard and the man in the white coat were long gone.

His stomach rumbled and ached with starvation. Evan crawled towards the tray and licked it clean, desperate for even a morsel. He tasted only salt. His ears twitched when he heard running water. He noticed the spigot above the drain had turned on and rushed towards it without question, taking a long drink. The water stopped flowing after a minute or so.

His false leg was lying on the floor. He reattached it and stood up, staggering towards the bars again. He saw the dworf in the adjacent cell staring back at him. “It almost worked!” she exclaimed.

“What did?” Evan asked. His voice was weary and hoarse.

“The serum! They just tested a new serum on you a few hours ago, I saw the whole thing!” she explained. “You transformed into the beast, kind of, and then you kind of transformed back into a man! That’s a big improvement from before! The last guy keeled over and died!”

Evan was struck silent. His head was in a fog, but he could recall bits and pieces of it now. He remembered eating his meal. He remembered the sting of the dart, feeling his chest pound and the heat of the fever rise until…

Well, everything after that was a mystery. He had completely blacked out, just like he always did under the influence of the full moon or too many hard drinks.

They were testing drugs on him, he realized. This place was no joke. It was just as the dworf said! These researchers were treating him like a test subject, a common lab rat, a disposable animal! He anxiously raked his fingers through his hair. He gasped in horror as it came out in great fistfuls, leaving bald patches behind.

Evan shook the bars of his cell and screamed into the corridor, “Get me out of here! Get me the fuck out of here, now! Dr. Lendon! Show yourself, you bastard!”

“He was just here,” the dworf told him. “You were too busy flopping around to notice. He’ll be back though. They’ll probably take you into the lab next time for the _real_ testing. The cure is so close, I promise you!”

“I don’t want this!” Evan panted, suddenly exhausted. His legs wobbled and he dropped to his knees, trembling with weakness. “I don’t want to be cured! Please, someone, get me out of here…!” His voice trailed off into ragged coughs.

The dworf placed her hands on her hips and said, “I just don’t understand guys like you! How can you possibly be happy with this disease? This shit ruined my entire life! Don’t you miss being normal?”

“No,” Evan panted. “No, I don’t! I miss my freedom! I miss my friends and family, and I would give anything to get out of this place so I could see them again! This is wrong, don’t you see? You can’t just torture people like this!”

The dworf explained, “You don’t get it. You’re not looking at the bigger picture. So picture this: a young Matuzan woman, fresh out of high school. Excellent grades, wealthy parents, just destined for success! Her family is so proud of her because she just got accepted into college, and she’s going to be the greatest pediatrician in all the kingdom!”

A quiet solemnness crept into her voice as she continued, “At least, that’s what she thought. But she made a big mistake. She dated a man with lycanthropy, thought ‘it’s no big deal, we won’t have any accidents, we’ll be careful’. She was wrong. She and her date became so busy with their coursework that they lost track of time. They stayed up late studying together and fell asleep in their books. The bright young woman woke with her hand in a beast’s mouth…”

She raised her right hand, and only then did Evan notice how gnarled it was, missing her last three digits. She went on, “She got away, but she lost more than her fingers. Her boyfriend was quarantined for life, her family shunned her, and she fell into a deep, lonely depression. She ended up on the streets, so pickled with alcohol that she lost track of time again. The moon transformed her into a terrible beast one night, and she ripped two innocent people to shreds before Disease Control took her down…”

She gestured around at her cell. “They were going to let her rot in the Capital Prison for the rest of her life. Then Dr. Lendon showed up and gave her another chance. He said she could make a difference, that she could help him find a cure so that no one would ever have to go through the pain she did. The woman always wanted to be a doctor so she could help people, and thanks to Dr. Lendon, she finally could. Do you understand now, why this testing is so important?”

Evan sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slow through his nostrils. He sat on his knees, leaning his forehead against the cold bars of his cell for a long moment. “I understand,” he said, “and I hope you get what you want one day. But your story is not my story. This disease may have ruined your life, but it saved mine. I never asked for a cure, so what right does this so-called ‘doctor’ have to force it on me?”

“It’s for the greater good,” she replied calmly. “We suffer now so future generations don’t have to. One day, I know they’ll look back on this horrible disease and laugh.”

*

A palace guard reluctantly banged his fist against Jelani’s bedchamber door. “Your Highness?” he called. “Your Highness, your attention is needed! Your High—”

The door suddenly swung open. Jelani stood on the other side, dressed down in a robe and glaring through bloodshot eyes. He growled, “You better have a damned good reason for waking me at this hour! What is it?”

“It’s your brother, Your Highness,” the guard reported. “He and his associates were caught trying to sneak into the palace. We’ve apprehended them, but your brother wishes to speak with you.”

The lines deepened on Jelani’s scowling face. “Oh, for gods’ sakes!” he groaned, then disappeared back into his room and slammed the door. He exited just a few minutes later, fully dressed, and was escorted to the dungeon down in the palace basement.

There he saw five familiar faces waiting in a cell. The mercenaries looked just as unrested as he did. “What are you doing here?” Jelani snapped. “Did I not tell you to stay out of my village? I should have you all thrown to the dogs!”

“Jelani, listen to me. Evan was kidnapped by the Matuzan Disease Control,” Lukas began. He hesitated to speak his next words, each one strained as if it pained him. “We, uh…we…ugh, we need your help, okay? Normally I’d never ask, but we’re completely out of options! Those monsters are torturing Evan as we speak, and we need a hundred thousand GP to get him out or they’re going to kill him!”

A strange expression flashed across Jelani’s face. A brief look of fear, of concern, but he quickly dragged a hand over his face to swipe it away. “Am I supposed to care?” he asked.

He jumped when Lukas’ hand shot through the bars and clutched the front of his shirt. Lukas pulled him closer and seethed, “Don’t play games, Jelani. You still care about him. I know you do. You’re an arrogant jerk, but you’re not heartless. That kind of money is pocket change to you! I know you wouldn’t let a man die like this if you could help it!”

“King Fanaka, we beg of you!” Jeimos pleaded with tears in their weary eyes, dropping to their knees. “Mr. Atlas is very dear to us! If you will not do it for him, will you do it for all those who love him? His mother is still alive, you know! No mother should have to mourn the death of her child! Oh, I can’t stand the bloody thought of it!”

The elf broke down into tears. Alaine reached out to rub their back and added, “No matter how you feel about Evan, he still cares about you. He was so heartbroken when you banished him, he drank himself stupid and wandered into the city. That’s where he got snatched.”

Jelani’s expression softened slightly. “What?” he muttered.

Glenvar told him, “Yeah, Lu said he was a mess all day ‘n night! Ya didn’t have to be so hard on him, _maska_!”

Lukas jabbed a finger against Jelani’s chest, spoke through his teeth when he said, “He got drunk because _you_ broke his heart! He got kidnapped because _you_ banished him from Uekoro! The least you could do is take some responsibility and bail him out!”

Jelani took a step back from the cell, absently rubbing the bruise on his chest. “He was...he was really that upset about it?” he queried, anxious eyes darting between each mercenary.

“Yes!” Lukas replied impatiently, squeezing the iron bars. “Now are you going to help him or not? Let us know quickly because we’re running out of time!”

The mercenaries silently awaited his answer. The air was still, for each of them were holding their breath. Jelani raked a hand over his smooth, bald head and let out a sigh, muttering something inaudible to himself.

Then he asked, “Where is he now?”

“In the Athenaeum. Medical research wing, some dungeon in the basement level,” answered Lukas. “We need money to bribe a contact out of the Capital Prison. She said she can help us get him out.”

With a wave of his hand, Jelani said, “No need for all that. Give me five minutes with the Athenaeum director and he’ll be a free man. I went to school at the Athenaeum, you know.”

“So did I, and they didn’t seem to give a damn what I said…” Lukas reminded him.

Jelani chuckled, “Ah, but you’re not a _king_ , dear brother. You gave the crown up to me, remember? And with it came all the power and influence of Uekoro.” He turned to the guard standing at his left and ordered, “You, get a battalion of ten good soldiers together. I want them ready to fly with me to the Capital City in one hour.”

He tipped his head towards the mercenaries and added, “Unlock their cell while you’re at it. They’re officially un-banned from Uekoro until further notice.”

*


	2. Brought Together

**[CHAPTER 2: BROUGHT TOGETHER]**

Evan awoke in his cot. It was the smell of cooked meat that roused him, and he scrambled to pick up the tray of shredded beef on the floor. A worker came by and asked for his medical gown, offering a clean one and a tiny bar of soap in return. He relieved himself over the hole in the floor and showered under the water spigot above.

The rest of his hair came out when he did, including his eyebrows and eyelashes when he washed his face, and his body hair when he washed the rest of himself. He was left naked as a baby bird, and he could only assume it was some side effect of one of the drugs they’d pumped into him.

He was beginning to memorize the spigot’s patterns. It turned on for one minute each hour, but stayed on for about five minutes shortly after the first meal of the day. Even the freedom to sip water when he wanted was robbed from him. He was completely at the mercy of the lab’s schedule.

After his meager shower, he swiped the moisture off of himself and sat on the floor naked to dry. He understood why they didn’t offer him a toothbrush, lest he sharpen the end and make it into a weapon. But would it kill them to give him a towel?

Once again, he was so occupied with his thoughts that a guard was able to sneak up on him unnoticed. Evan cried out, more out of anger than pain when he felt a dart pierce into his back. He ripped it out and threw it back at the guard, but it only bounced harmlessly off the bars.

Already he was getting woozy. But unlike the last dart, he did not feel ill as if he was going to transform. All the strength drained from his muscles, too heavy to move as he collapsed limply onto the floor. Shortly after, two armored trolls walked into his cell. They cuffed his hands behind his back and removed his false leg before lifting him onto a gurney.

Evan desperately wanted to speak to them, but the muscles of his throat refused to make words. He only groaned, watching the electric lights in the ceiling pass by while they wheeled him down the corridor.

They brought him into some kind of laboratory. It was a spacious room with white, sterile walls and shiny tile floors. Evan’s eyes drifted around at all kind of contraptions he couldn’t identify. There were several tables and chairs cluttered with equipment. People in white coats and paper masks were bustling about. Most of them seemed to be human, the rest dworfen or roshavan.

The main feature of the room was the giant, glass orb near the back. The orb sat on a pedestal with a jungle of tubes and wires snaking out from it. The vivid green glass stood out against the otherwise white environment.

The broad-shouldered human with the unruly sideburns was standing near the orb, jotting something down in a notepad. He glanced up at the trolls and waved towards the orb, ordered, “Put him in the chamber.”

The trolls obeyed, wheeling the gurney towards the orb. One of them pulled a lever on the pedestal and the glass suddenly segmented in a spiral shape, spiraling back to open a round doorway. The trolls wheeled the gurney up the ramp and set Evan on the cool, metal floor of the pedestal. They removed his cuffs and made their exit. He found himself sealed inside the orb, all sound from outside muffled as if he were underwater.

His lycanthrope ears strained to listen to the scientists’ chatter. They said things like, “…moondust trials…”, and “…ideal specimen…”, and “…vaccine development…”, but he couldn’t make sense out of any of it.

After just a few minutes, the drug began to wear off. Evan felt the strength return to his muscles like blood flooding back into a tingling limb. He strained to wiggle in fingers, and not long after that he was able to sit up. He crawled to the end of the orb and banged his fist against the glass.

“I need to speak with Dr. Lendon! Let me speak with him, please!” he roared. He pounded incessantly against the glass with all his might, but it was not frail like the glass in any window. It was as hard as stone.

After a moment, the broad-shouldered scientist tucked his notepad in his coat pocket and approached him. He stepped up to the pedestal and pressed his finger against a button before speaking into a round little device. Evan heard his voice clearly as he said, “Hello, this is Dr. Lendon. I know you have many questions.”

His accent was thick and blunt, similar to those Evan heard along Serkel’s western coast. Evan snarled back, “I just want out of here! Your goons snatched me up while I was drunk! I did _not_ consent to any of this! Release me this instant, damn you! This surely isn’t legal, and it certainly isn’t right!”

Dr. Lendon stared back at him, expression as flat as his tone when he replied, “I understand why you’re upset. These experiments can be difficult. Quite painful, sometimes. But when you change your mindset, they become much easier for the both of us. Perhaps I can inspire you to cooperate.”

Evan’s patience had run dry long ago. He slammed his fist on the glass and rumbled, “Let. Me. Out.”

Pulling up a chair, Dr. Lendon sat down before he said, “Let us discuss this like civilized men. We are not beasts, despite what we’re told. We are merely sick people. But I am a doctor, and the cure is within my grasp. I am not your enemy, sir. Everything I do in this lab is for the greater good.”

“You’re a lycanthrope?” Evan queried. Looking the man over once more, he wasn’t exactly surprised. He was built like a block of stone.

Dr. Lendon nodded. “Almost thirty years I’ve suffered. I know this disease inside and out. Trust in me, and I can free us both from this curse.”

“I don’t want a cure,” Evan told him bluntly.

“But you do,” insisted Dr. Lendon. “The beast has muddled your mind, as it does to all of us. It impairs your judgment. Once you are cured, I promise it will all become clear to you.”

Evan argued, “I _chose_ this disease, doctor! Sober of body and sound of mind, I sought a lycanthrope and asked him to bite me! There is nothing wrong with my judgment! I know what I want, and I want out of this horrible prison of yours!”

Dr. Lendon crossed his legs, folding his hairy hands on top of his knee. “So you think. But answer me this: shortly after you contracted the disease, were you filled with a crushing sense of regret?”

Evan paused. He thought back to that fateful day he woke up in the hospital. His mother’s tears still haunted him. “Well, yes,” he answered. “But in the end, it was all for the best. I-I had no choice. I was terminally ill and—”

Dr. Lendon interrupted, “Listen to me. That regret you felt; it was the last of your humanity slipping away. Because ever since then, you have reveled in your disease, have you not? You’ve become gluttonous. You’ve done despicable things out of hunger that you would have never done before you were sick. Is this correct?”

Evan was reluctant to answer. The memories burned his face with shame. So many times had he discreetly picked food out of the trash, eaten things that had long expired, even snatched birds and roaches and eaten them alive just because his stomach had growled a little too loud.

He remained silent, so Dr. Lendon continued, “And your thoughts, they are plagued by twisted fantasies. You dream of blood and violence. That which used to disgust you now brings you pleasure, does it not?”

Evan’s shame burned ever hotter. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t dream of blood in some way, shape, or form. He’d been having the same recurring dream since he was sixteen, of running naked through a forest, chasing down some kind of animal and eating it raw. These were not nightmares. He only woke disappointed that his mouth was empty.

“These desires have frightened you at times,” continued Dr. Lendon. “You salivate at the sight of naked, vulnerable flesh. Even if it’s the flesh of those you love. You fear there will come a day when you cannot control your urges—”

“That’s enough! Stop this, you’re sick!” Evan exclaimed. His voice sounded more defeated than assertive. He was only upset because it was true, every word of it.

The doctor’s expression still hadn’t changed once during their exchange. It remained flat when he replied, “We are both sick, sir. Don’t be ashamed of these things. They are only symptoms of our disease, and they won’t be forever. Even if we do not get our humanity back, we have planted a seed for future generations. Our children and grandchildren will not suffer like we did. My research is not out of some evil desire, but out of love for humanity. So I ask you: are you inspired?”

Evan stared the man down for a long moment. Dr. Lendon simply stared back, stoic as ever. Evan spit on the glass and turned away from him. He had made his choice.

“Very well,” sighed the doctor, rising from his chair. He turned to his colleagues and ordered, “Initiate moondust trial C-0993!”

Scientists rushed around the room, working machinery that Evan didn’t understand. He noticed one of them approach the orb with a pair of metal tongs in his hand. With the tongs he clutched a vial of gray powder, which he placed in some kind of receptacle on the pedestal.

Evan heard the faint sound of glass breaking, then the machine around him began to whir. The orb suddenly filled with a cloud of dust. Evan coughed and shielded his face, but there was nothing he could do to avoid the particles. His flesh became coated with dust, and after a minute or two, he collapsed and began to transform to a beast.

Dr. Lendon stood before the orb, watching the violent metamorphosis. Under a full moon, it took about a half-hour from the time Evan lost consciousness to the time he became a werewolf. But covered in this strange dust, his body distorted, hair sprouting, maw extending faster than ever.

In less than a minute, a furious werewolf was thrashing around in the orb. It snarled and swiped at the glass, leaving streaks of white froth each time it slammed its maw against the surface. Its red eyes pierced through the haze, glaring directly at Dr. Lendon.

“Subject HM-023 successfully transformed. Initiate C-0993, phase two,” the doctor ordered. One of his colleagues opened a metal box and retrieved a large slab of red meat from inside. She weighed it on a scale before injecting it with some kind of fluid from a syringe. It was placed on a tray, then delivered to another receptacle on the pedestal. The machine began to whir. An instant later, the meat fell from a tube in the top.

The werewolf smelled it before it even dropped. It snatched the meat out of the air before it hit the floor, barely chewing before swallowing it down. It continued to bounce around its glass cell, growling and clawing towards the scientists for some time.

Its activity gradually slowed down. Over the course of ten minutes, the werewolf came to a stop and collapsed on its side. Its limbs stiffened, stretching outward. Dr. Lendon and his team fervently scrawled down notes as they observed.

Dr. Lendon threw a question towards one colleague standing near a strange device. Attached to the device were several round dials, like watch faces with far more digits. “Vitals?”

“Blood pressure elevated to stage two hypertension. Oxygen at ninety percent. Heart rate accelerated,” answered the colleague, watching the dials closely. After a moment, he noted, “Hypertension at stage three. Heart rate rapidly increasing. Oxygen at seventy-two percent. Heart rate up to three-fifty BPM, quickly approaching four hundred—”

“Cease trial! Chamber cleanse, now!” ordered Dr. Lendon. His team acted quickly, pushing buttons and pulling levers until the orb filled with clear liquid. It flooded completely and drained again in a matter of seconds, leaving a stiff, wet werewolf behind.

The creature lurched several times before coughing up a gush of clear fluid, followed by an undigested, barely-chewed piece of meat. Its stiff limbs loosened slightly, and every breath it took was deep and desperate. Not long after, it began to transform back into a man.

Its limbs shortened, muscles shrinking, hair shedding, until it disappeared completely. Left in its place was Evan, lying unconscious on his side.

“Vitals?” Dr. Lendon asked again.

His colleague reported, “Heart rate rapidly decreasing, approaching normal levels. Oxygen at eighty-eight percent and rising. Blood pressure stabilizing.” He paused, then added, “Subject may have suffered damage to the heart. I recommend a cardiovascular exam before we proceed.”

The doctor made a quiet noise from the back of his throat. He looked upon Evan with disappointment, then ordered, “Very well. Take him to the medical lab and fetch Subject DF-05. We will begin preparation of Cure-0994.”

*

Lukas and the rest of the crew enjoyed a brief nap on the flight to Matuzu Capital. They rode in a gazebo with ten soldiers and Jelani, grasped in the claws of a massive cargo dragon. The beast touched down at the Capital City’s dragonport, Shadow following close behind.

It was around high sun and the heat was sweltering. Jelani pulled a kerchief from his pocket. He briefly removed his crown to mop his gleaming brow as he stepped out of the gazebo. The mercenaries and his soldiers followed, escorting him to a luxury carriage waiting nearby.

Jelani and the mercenaries climbed inside the carriage while the soldiers simply clung to the outside. They rode all the way to the World Athenaeum in the heart of the city. Jelani jumped out of the carriage and led the way to the front gates, marching right up to the guards with his passport in hand.

He flung the passport at the elven guard. She fumbled to catch it as he announced, “I am King Jelani Fanaka, grandest noble of Uekoro. I wish to speak with the Athenaeum director immediately.”

The guard didn’t bother opening the passport. She simply chucked it back at him. “If you want to speak to the director, you’ll have to submit a request. You’ll probably hear back within six to eight months,” she said. The passport bounced off Jelani’s beaded tunic and hit the ground. One of his soldiers quickly stooped to pick it up.

Jelani let out a soft, surprised chuckle and told her, “This is no joke, ma’am. You are truly standing before the king of Uekoro. Soldier, show her my passport.”

But when the soldier opened the book before her, she pushed it away and told him flatly, “I don’t care who you are. No one gets in the Athenaeum without permission from an inside authority.”

“Ma’am,” Jelani said, tone sharp with irritation, “I am Matuzan _royalty_. I outrank you _and_ the director a thousand times over. Fetch him for me at once or I’ll have you arrested for insubordination!”

The guard shrugged. “I’m just doing my job, sir. In case you haven’t heard, the Athenaeum suffered a devastating attack earlier this year. The security team has been instructed to take extra measures for safety.”

“Don’t you talk down to me, you wretched little hob! I sent over five hundred of my best men to defend the Athenaeum from that attack! Now I suggest you open this gate and let me through!” shouted Jelani.

He stepped forward, but he didn’t get far before both the elfenne and the ogre beside her thrusted their weapons towards him. “ _We_ suggest you step away before you get hurt,” rumbled the ogre.

Jelani’s jaw slacked with outrage. Before he could launch into a tirade, Lukas grabbed his arm and said, “Don’t. Forget it, it’s not worth the trouble.”

Jelani jerked his arm out of his brother’s grip. He slapped the elfenne’s staff to the side before marching up and jabbing a finger against her chestplate. “I will find your supervisor, and so help me gods, I will have you fired so fast—”

“Jelani, come on!” Lukas groaned, tugging at the king’s belt.

His soldiers stepped between him and the guard, ushering him away for his own safety as he shouted towards the gate, “I’ll have you both blacklisted from every business in this city! You are hereby banned from Uekoro, do you hear me? If I see your faces in my—”

Lukas seized the collar of the man’s shirt and hissed, “Would you stop? You’re going to get us arrested!”

“Did you hear the way they spoke to me, brother? They treated me like a common peasant! This is outrageous!” complained Jelani, throwing a hand back towards the gate. Then he addressed his soldiers, ordered, “You three, I want the names and addresses of those vermin. Buy us all rooms at the Uptown Inn and meet me there when you find something.”

He turned to the other soldiers. “As for the rest of you, escort us to the Capital Prison. It’s time for Plan B.”

“Er, forgive me, Your Highness,” began Jeimos. “But would it be possible to simply bribe those guards instead of Natoma? She really is quite frightening. If there is any way to keep her behind bars, I think we should consider it.”

Jelani laughed, but there was no joy behind it. “Oh, no, no. This just got _personal_. I’m letting that crazy nymph loose, and whatever havoc she wreaks on that place will be well deserved!”

The mercenaries looked at one another, exchanging uncertain mutterings. It was too late now. They were in too deep to turn back, so the group made their way to the island in Central Lake. They crossed the long bridge and stepped into the imposing prison, where they met the same faunish receptionist as before.

“You want to visit that psychopath _again_? Whatever for?” the fauness questioned, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

“Personal business,” replied Lukas.

This wasn’t good enough for the receptionist, who told him, “I’m sorry, but we have a strict policy about visitation limits. You’ll have to come back next week.”

She returned to her paperback novel, then dropped it in surprise when a fistful of coins scattered across her desk. “Whoops!” said Jelani. “How clumsy of me! Well, I can’t be bothered to pick that mess up. I’m a very busy, very _important_ man. I suggest you let us visit our friend here so I can get on with my day.”

The receptionist stared down at the coins with wide eyes, scattered over the desk, her lap, and around her hooves on the floor. She adjusted her glasses, then discreetly began scooping them up as she replied, “Er, yes, I understand. I’ll have that visitation request in right away.”

Jelani’s soldiers stayed behind as he and the mercenaries were escorted to Natoma’s cell in the basement. This time, they did not go in. Jelani stopped before the ogre guard and greeted, “Good afternoon, sir. Can you tell me when this prisoner is due for release?”

The ogre glanced back at Natoma through the narrow window on the door. “Her? About three hundred years from now, give or take.” He shrugged. Jelani feigned a thoughtful nod as he reached into his vest pocket.

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound right to me. That’s an awfully long sentence, don’t you think?” he said, suddenly holding a bulging cloth sack in his hand. The ogre’s eyes followed it like a predator’s gaze to a piece of meat.

“On second thought, I might be wrong. She’ll be out in about a week or two,” the ogre said quietly.

Jelani gave the bag a couple shallow tosses, making the coins inside jingle. “I think you mean in an hour or two,” he suggested. His crooked grin was calm, but his eyes were full of threats.

The ogre hesitated for a long moment, staring at the bag as if contemplating something. Jelani passed it to him and said, “Gods, but this bag is getting heavy! I’ve been carrying it around all day. You wouldn’t mind holding it for me, would you?”

It seemed the ogre had made up his mind. He took the bag from Jelani and tucked it away into the pocket of his chainmail greaves. “Not at all, sir. I’ll go ahead and, uh, make some _arrangements_ with the head of security. I’m sure we can get this little mix-up sorted out.”

The mercenaries were escorted back into the reception area. There they waited for almost two hours until a roshavan man in a crisp, orange suit showed up. Walking by his side was someone shrouded in an oversized brown cloak that dragged on the floor. Its large hood covered the person’s face completely in shadow, but the mercenaries already knew exactly who it was.

They looked between Jelani and the figure in awe. Had it really been so easy to break an infamous murderer out of Matuzu Kingdom’s largest prison? For a wealthy king, apparently so!

“I’m terribly sorry about the confusion, gentlemen. The error was ours,” the roshava told them stiffly. He pushed the cloaked figure towards them and continued, “Your friend is free to go. You know, even the most prestigious institutions are not immune to the odd clerical error here and there. Sometimes the innocent are found guilty, sometimes receptionists are hard of hearing, and sometimes guards can be a bit careless. Prisoners are known to _escape_ if we’re not vigilant…”

He offered a shallow bow to Jelani. “I do apologize for the trouble, Your Highness. May this incident be quickly forgotten.”

Jelani shook one of his four hands and said, “I don’t know what incident you’re talking about, sir. Everything seems to be in order here. Have a nice day.”

The mercenaries said not a word as they followed Jelani and his entourage of soldiers out of the prison. They surrounded Natoma, urging her to keep her cloak on until they were out of the public eye. Jelani stopped in the middle of a busy street and whistled for a horse-drawn carriage. The driver guided his horses towards them.

Just before Jelani climbed in, he turned back to the mercenaries and told them, “I believe my work here is done. You can thank me later. I’ll wait for you at the inn, just do whatever you must to get Atlas out of that place.” He leaned closer to Natoma and whispered. “ _Whatever_ you must, understand?”

Natoma’s voice snaked out from under her hood, creaking with twisted glee. “They will pay dearly for their crimes against nature, Your Highness. I promise you that,” she said.

Jelani paid her a single nod, then just like that, he and his soldiers were riding off deeper into the city. Now the mercenaries had no choice but to answer to Natoma, the crazed and murderous faunae.

Lukas addressed her when he sighed, “Our swords are reluctantly at your disposal. What do you need us to do?”

“Just follow me,” she answered, and she began leading them through a maze of narrow backstreets.

At the end of the maze was a dead end. All they saw was a pile of trash and a manhole cover. Natoma grunted as she slid the heavy cover aside and beckoned them down into the sewers.

“Down there? In the stink-tunnels? Aw, not again!” groaned Glenvar. The others groaned right alongside him.

“That is where our army awaits! Now stop your grumbling and get down there!” the nymph exclaimed. “Every second we waste is another second our friends suffer, so you’d do well not to question my orders!”

One by one, the mercenaries climbed down the ladder. Natoma jumped down after them, gracefully as a cat on her pawed feet. She cast off her cloak and threw it into the channel of putrid water flowing beside them. Together they moved down the narrow walkway into the darkness.

They heard the faint buzzing of the dusty electric bulbs strung up along the wall every hundred paces or so. These bulbs barely provided enough light to navigate, but Natoma did not struggle with her natural nightvision.

They could also hear a faint skittering sound all around them. Lukas listened closely for a moment and asked, “What on Gaia is that scratching noise?” But before anyone could answer, he heard something crunch under his boot.

Lukas jumped back and lifted his foot. The remains of a large river crab were flattened on the concrete before him.

“You idiot! Watch where you’re going!” snarled Natoma. She took a quick swipe at Lukas, leaving four shallow, bloody claw marks across his face. He cried out and nearly stumbled back into the channel before his crewmen caught him.

“Ow! You crazy bitch!” Lukas growled, clutching his bleeding cheek.

“Don’t you get upset, you don’t have the right! You just killed one of Gaia’s creatures with your carelessness! Be thankful you’re still useful to me or I’d take an eye for an eye!” the faunae growled back, then whirled around and began storming off further into the abyss.

Only now did the mercenaries notice that the floor was moving. Rather, they were surrounded by a swarm of crabs. Some were as big as a man’s head, others as small as a fingertip. Natoma effortlessly tip-toed around every one of them. The mercenaries had no hope of matching her grace.

Alaine tapped Jeimos on the shoulder and said, “Jay, heat it up in here.”

The elf quirked their crimson eyebrows at her. “You mean summon a flame? Whatever for?”

“Crabs hate fire. Trust me, I know crustaceans,” she explained, so without further question, Jeimos willed an intense, magical ball of fire between their palms. Their crewmen stepped back, wincing at the heat on their faces.

The crabs didn’t seem to like it much either. They began fleeing into the channel, repelled from Jeimos like oil from water. They cleared a path all the way down the tunnel until the group rounded two corners and came to a dead-end.

There stood Natoma’s old throne, a decaying mass of hair, waste, and rat bones fused to the wall. A lone titan rat with vibrant orange fur sat atop the throne, nibbling a stale loaf of bread.

“Pumpkin!” Isaac gasped, bolting towards the throne. The rat squeaked with delight and dropped its bread at the sight of him. Isaac kneeled before the throne with his arms outstretched and the giant rat leaped right into them. “I thought I’d never see you again! Aww, look how big you’ve grown!” Isaac laughed as he rocked the creature back and forth.

Lukas scolded, “Isaac, that’s unsanitary! Put that nasty animal down right now!”

“He’s not unsanitary! He’s a good boy!” Isaac cooed, planting kisses all over the rat’s face. His crewmen groaned and screwed up their faces in disgust.

Natoma tilted her head at the young mercenary. “Well now,” she said, “I knew there was something special about you, boy! Which one of my sisters blessed you with their gift?”

Isaac turned to her, brows knit in confusion. Pumpkin crawled up his torso and rested on his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you clearly have the Blessing of the Faunae. Otherwise that rat would be chewing through your neck,” Natoma clarified. “We don’t give such a blessing to just anyone. In all my thousands of years, I’ve only ever met one soul deserving of it.” She paused, expression hardening with bitterness. “That whore-divine ended up betraying me anyway, with all this Athenaeum business!”

Before Isaac could question her further, she stormed towards her throne and jumped on top of it, raising her hands high. Her eyes and clawed fingertips glowed bright with magic. “Hear me, my darling little friends! Your queen has returned!”

Her shrill voice echoed through the tunnels. The mercenaries waited in silence for a moment. Just as they started to think her spell failed, they heard a skittering sound from the abyss. It grew louder by the second as a black, undulating mass drew closer. It was peppered by glowing, green lights.

All at once, the mercenaries pressed themselves against the wall in a flurry of shrieks as a swarm of vermin poured down the walkway. Thousands of crabs, rats, giant spiders, and frogs scrambled over eachother to reach Natoma, laughing maniacally from atop her throne.

They surrounded her in a swirling cyclone, their eyes glowing bright green with her enchantment. Even Pumpkin was drawn in by its power. The rat leaped off Isaac’s shoulder into the sea of beasts. The mercenaries held eachother close, trembling with repulsion and fright. Natoma was much stronger since they freed her from her shroud of rot. They were relieved to have her on their side this time around.

“My children!” she screamed. “The time to rage against our oppressors is now! We shall destroy the Athenaeum from the inside out!”

*

Evan wrapped his fingers around the spigot and pulled with all his might. Even his lycanthrope strength could not budge it. Still he persisted as he had for the last several hours, desperately trying to rip it from the wall.

He reasoned that if he damaged the spigot, someone would have to come fix it. Evan would be relocated to another cell, perhaps giving him a small window of time to make his escape. It was a long shot, but what other option was there?

The howling and screeching around him was non-stop. His eyes were ringed by dark bags, for he could barely sleep through the constant sounds of agony. One noise stood out among them, a voice wailing in distress. It was familiar and feminine, closer than the others.

The dworf! Evan rushed to the front of his cell and peeked through the bars. He watched helplessly as the dworf convulsed on the floor of her cell. Her mouth frothed, limbs stiffening. Evan wanted to call her name, then realized he’d never even asked. He’d been too wrapped up in his own misery since he arrived.

“Guards! Someone, help! That prisoner’s having a medical emergency!” he shouted down the barren hall. He shouted again and again, calling for help, but it seemed no one heard his pleas…or they simply didn’t care.

His heart sank, fingers tightening around the bars of his cell as he watched the prisoner die. And she most certainly had, for she’d gone quiet and stiff, chest as still as a stone in the wind. A trickle of blood oozed from the side of her mouth, pooling onto the floor.

Evan watched her for some time. He focused his mind onto her as if he could somehow will her back to life. She may have consented to this nonsense, but she did not deserve whatever they’d done to her to cause such a gruesome death.

Nearly an hour after the fact, guards finally arrived to deliver meals. Evan watched one guard park the cart full of trays in front of the dworf’s cell, freezing in place with a tray in his hand. He put it back on the cart and called, “Hey, I think we got a dead one in here!”

“Another one?” the other guard replied, making his way over to the first. “Gods, what kind of experiments are they doing these days? That’s the third corpse this week!”

“Well, at least this one ain’t no behemoth. Grab a gurney while I get the rest of these mongrels fed.”

A metal tray slid under Evan’s door, piled high with… _something_. Evan examined it closer, giving it a sniff. It was some kind of kibble soaked in oil. Literal dog food. Evan groaned, half-tempted to chuck it back at the guards and berate them.

But his lycanthrope hunger had driven him to pick roadkill off the ground and eat it raw in the past, and now it was driving him to scoop up the oily kibble with his fingers and ravenously swallow it down. He was utterly ashamed of himself.

Since reuniting with his family and earning their forgiveness, Evan had started coming to terms with his disease, rethinking his negative view of himself. But during his time in this wretched place, Dr. Lendon’s words kept replaying in his mind over and over again. The man hadn’t been wrong about anything, and it was making Evan doubt himself, mistrust himself, even loathe himself all over again.

Perhaps he was locked in here for a good reason. Did he even deserve to be free? He had murdered and cannibalized his own father, had nearly killed his entire crew just a few years ago on his birthday. The Freelance Good Guys would arrest or kill anyone else who had done the same, so what made Evan so special?

He wrestled with these thoughts as he chewed through his vile meal. His rage was burning hotter by the second, twisting his stomach into knots. He was only half-way through with his tray before he suddenly stood up and chucked it against the bars.

The loud clang startled the guards standing across from him, tending to the adjacent cell. Just as they turned to face him, they were sprayed with a volley of wet, slimy kibble. They cried out in disgust as Evan clutched the bars and snarled, “Feed us properly or let us out, you monsters! This slop isn’t fit for a dog!”

The guards brushed said slop off their armor, examining it closely. One said to the other, “Please tell me this isn’t shit…”

“No, that’s the stuff the kitchen sent today,” replied the other. “Heh, must really be bad. None of them have ever chucked their food before.”

“Let me out!” Evan screamed.

The first guard pointed at him and shouted back, “Shut up in there! Toss a tray like that again and we’ll toss you in the crematorium!”

“Watch your back, cretin, because next time it _will_ be shit!” Evan bellowed back.

The guard let out a growl as he stormed towards his cell, whipping an electric prod off his belt. The other guard grabbed his arm and said, “Hey, hey, don’t bother. Let’s just get that corpse out of here. My shift’s almost over, I can’t fool around with this nonsense.” He shot a glance towards Evan. “If he wants to go hungry today, that’s his business.”

The other sighed, “Right. Fine.” Then together, the two lifted the dworf’s cold, stiff body onto the gurney. Evan listened to the wheels creak as they rolled it away. The corridor was left barren once more.

Evan looked down at the kibble strewn across the floor of his cell. The urge to lick it up was like the weight of a mountain bearing down on his shoulders. Evan refused to break. With a growl of exertion, he tore his gaze off the mess and returned to the spigot.

His thoughts kept wandering back to the dworf’s death. So, that was Dr. Lendon’s protocol when one of his test subjects died? To carelessly scoop them up and toss them in a furnace?

Evan suddenly let go of the spigot. He had a better idea.

He sank his teeth into his arm until blood gushed forth. He bit himself in various places again and again, smearing the blood all over his body. He ran his red, slick palms over his face and through his hair, which was already growing back in patchy sections. He stained his medical gown and smeared it over his face like war paint.

Though he did not have a mirror, Evan didn’t need one to know how bad he looked. The stench of copper was strong in his cell. The other lycanthropes must have smelled it too, for their cries for bloodlust were escalating by the moment.

Evan tore gashes in his medical gown for effect. He wanted to look like an experiment gone horribly wrong, so wrong that there would be no question that it killed him. Bruised and bloodied from head to toe, he then lied on the floor, belly-down, and waited.

Eventually, two different guards showed up to pass out clean gowns and soap. They were a human and a dworf, respectively. Evan could tell by the gait of their steps, for his ears still listened while his eyes remained closed.

He heard the dworf guard’s more rapid steps come to a sudden halt before his cell. “Oh, shit!” the guard exclaimed. “W-we, uh, got a dead one over here! Come look at this, it’s a mess!”

The human guard hurried over. Letting out a low whistle, he said, “Damn! Poor guy! What kind of drugs did they give him? Looks like he went mad and tore himself apart!”

“Who knows? Ugh, what a mess. Go get a gurney, will you? And a mop,” sighed the dworf. Evan heard the jingling of a keyring and the creak of his cell door open. He held his breath as the dworf approached alone.

This was going even better than expected! Evan lie as still as possible, waiting for the human guard’s footsteps to disappear down the corridor. The dworf paced in a slow circle around him, shaking his head as he muttered in disbelief.

Evan never expected the guard to give him a kick. It startled him, causing him to jump, and in an instant his plan fell through. “Oh! Wait, Boris, wait—!” the dworf called to his cohort, but it was too late. Evan snagged him by his short leg before he could run away and tripped him.

The guard didn’t know what hit him when Evan drove his knee onto his head, driving his entire weight down. His helmet caved and so too did his face. Evan quickly snatched the keyring off his belt and rushed to the door. The human guard was already running back to frantically close it.

They both grabbed the door’s edge at the same time. Evan won their battle of strength with just one hand, jerking the door open and sending the guard stumbling inside. Just as the guard reached for his electric prod, Evan seized his arm and flipped him in an arc over his shoulder.

The man cried out as his shoulder joint separated from his torso with an audible crack. While he was down, Evan snatched the prod for himself and drove it into the man’s eye. Blood-curdling screams filled the cell, and so too did howls of excitement from the adjacent prisoners.

Evan rushed to the cell straight across from his. He forced the key in the keyhole with trembling hands and gave it a twist. Instantly the hideous half-werebeast was free, and it made a beeline straight into Evan’s cell. Evan winced at the guard’s screams and the squelch of gore as he was eaten alive, tried to simply focus on opening as many cells as possible as fast as possible.

Six other lycanthropes were liberated before an alarm started blaring. Someone must have seen or heard the madness from the heavy door at the end of the corridor, which the prisoners had flocked to. It was locked, and they banged against it furiously, trying to peek through its narrow window.

Evan didn’t know if he even had a key for that door, but he kept opening cells regardless. No one was coming in to stop him—not that they could, with the mob of angry lycanthropes blocking the only way in or out. He hadn’t planned that far yet. One thing at a time.

Before long, not a single cell was occupied except for Evan’s, where the half-werecreature was still feasting on a guard’s corpse. Evan watched it warily, wondering if he should close it in for all their safety if they were going to be stuck in here with it.

He was torn from his thoughts when Dr. Lendon appeared through the window on the other side of the door. His voice came through some kind of contraption on the walls when he said, “You’re all making a mistake you will soon regret. Return to your cells or you will never be liberated from your disease.” Despite all the chaos, his tone was calm and flat as usual.

The group of lycanthropes, about twenty strong, responded with a round of angry shouts. They banged on the door and launched a volley of spit on the glass. Dr. Lendon replied calmly, “Very well. It’s your choice. My colleagues cannot feed you until you’re all back in your cells. So until then, I suppose you’ll have to figure something else out.” He shrugged. “I will return in a few hours to see if you’ve changed your minds. If not, well, there’s always tomorrow.”

With that, he disappeared down the hall. His captives roared and fought the door, desperately trying to chase him, but it was no use. Evan made his way to his cell and discreetly closed the door, trapping the half-man-half-beast inside.

*

Dr. Lendon’s colleague approached him in the hall, calling, “Dr. Lendon, sir! The subjects are making a real ruckus in there! Would you like us to send some guards to get them under control?”

“No need,” the doctor replied flippantly. “Breakouts like these have happened before. Hunger will consume them, and then they will consume eachother. The survivors will give in and return to their cells eventually. Tell the team they’re on vacation until further notice.”

His colleague nodded and hurried off in another direction. Dr. Lendon made his way down the hall to his private suite. He stepped into his washroom and drew a bath while he unbuttoned his long coat.

The room had a toilet at one end, a bathtub at the other, and a long counter between them. In the center of the counter was a sink, and hanging above that was a mirrored medicine cabinet. The mirror was lined with a mosaic of colorful glass, a common motif in this region.

Dr. Lendon neatly folded his clothes and set them on the counter. He stood naked before the mirror, staring in dismay at the carpet of unruly, graying hair growing from his shoulders all the way down his chest. He was likely approaching sixty years of age, working a sedentary profession. Yet he had the hulking frame and bulging muscles of a professional wrestler, all thanks to his disease.

Still, he looked upon his body with disgust, shaking his head before lowering himself into the tub. He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, relaxing in the hot water. Then, his ears twitched. He could hear subtle vibrations that unafflicted men could not, and he was hearing scratching, creaking noises in the walls.

Perhaps the plumbing was just getting old. He would call to have it looked at later, he thought, and tried to ignore it. He closed his eyes again. His relaxation was interrupted once more when he heard a bubbling sound from the toilet. He leaned forward, squinting at the open bowl.

His brows shot up when a tiny crab crawled up from the bowl and stood atop the seat. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. So there was his “plumbing issue”. Here in the Midland Jungle, it wasn’t unheard of for little critters to come through the pipes once in a while.

He jumped in surprise when the rubber plug suddenly popped out of the drain. A large rat had pushed it out, squeezed its way through the drain, and was now swimming towards him. Dr. Lendon scrambled out of the tub. His wet feet slipped on the tile and he caught himself on the edge of the counter. He immediately let go when a spider the size of his hand crawled out of the sink.

“What on Gaia…?” he exclaimed, quickly rising to his feet. His jaw dropped in horror at the zoo suddenly flooding into his bathroom. Spiders crawled up from the sink, rats from the tub, crabs from the toilet. They were pouring through by the hundreds, and then the cover for the ceiling vent suddenly hit the floor. At least a dozen screeching titan rats fell through with it, writhing and scurrying around him, each one the size of his head.

This sea of vermin swarmed Dr. Lendon all at once. Their eyes were glowing like green flames as they pinched, chewed, and stung him anywhere they could reach. The man screamed and thrashed, desperately trying to brush them off. For every one he shook off, two more took their place.

He fought through the swarm to reach his medicine cabinet, tearing its door right off the hinges. Among other things, there was a vial of gray dust inside. Dr. Lendon grabbed this vial and crushed it in its hand. He poured its contents into his mouth, broken glass and all.

Within seconds, be started to convulse. His eyes rolled back and he dropped to the floor. He disappeared into the swarm of vermin for almost a minute, and then a massive, wolf-like beast rose above them with a furious howl. It swiped at the swarm with its colossal hands and snapped at them with its giant maw, swallowing rats and spiders whole.

The vermin were outmatched. They began to flee, squeezing under the gap in the washroom door. A werewolf would never let a meal get away so easily, and it bashed itself against the door, breaking right through with a mighty crash. Both the werewolf and its mob of prey disappeared elsewhere in the suite.

A few minutes passed. Then, the sharp, golden blade of a scythe pierced through the ceiling just outside the vent. It sawed through the wood like a hot knife through butter, opening a larger hole from which Isaac dropped. Lukas, Glenvar, Alaine, Jeimos, and Natoma dropped in shortly after.

A few stray crabs and spiders were still meandering aimlessly around the bathroom, some injured or dead. The mercenaries could hear the werewolf’s chaos from outside the room.

“What’s going on out there?” whispered Alaine, confused by the noise. None of them had seen what just transpired in this room minutes before. They only saw the mess left behind and the door broken off its hinges.

“It’s a werewolf,” mumbled Natoma, wrinkling her nose. “I can smell it. Ugh, rancid abominations…”

“Evan?” the mercenaries gasped at once. Isaac led the way, clutching his scythe close as he peeked out the doorway. All he could see was a hall, so he beckoned the others to follow and crept down further.

Now he could see out into a spacious sitting room. The walls were crawling with spiders, rats and crabs scurrying every which way. The once expensive furniture was tipped and torn and smashed to pieces, and then they found the source of the chaos.

A werewolf indeed, but not Evan’s Big Bad Wolf. Bigbad’s fur was the color of dry summer grass, the same as Evan’s. And like Evan, its right hind leg ended in a stump, forcing it to crawl on its hands. This werewolf had black fur with graying streaks. Both of its legs were in-tact, and it was using them to run around the suite in pursuit of the vermin.

It swiped at another mob of titan rats. Their flesh ripped apart under the force of the werewolf’s claws, gore splattering all over the pristine white walls. Natoma’s face burned hot with rage. “Cease your violence, you vile thing!” she shrieked, rushing towards the creature. The mercenaries reached out to stop her, but she was already out of reach.

She approached the beast without fear. It towered over her and snarled, white froth oozing from its lips. Its fur was soaked in vermin blood. Natoma was not the slightest bit intimidated as she pointed to the floor and commanded, “Down!”

The werewolf’s snarls quieted. It picked up its ears and cocked its head at her. “I said ‘down’! Now!” she commanded again. The mercenaries watched, dumbfounded, as the fearsome beast slowly lowered itself into a sitting position. It licked its lips and whimpered like a frightened puppy.

Natoma leaned forward and hissed in its face, “ _Down_.”

With obvious reluctance, the werewolf rolled onto his back and showed its belly, tail thumping in submission. Natoma shook her head and said, “Cerno should be ashamed of himself for unleashing these mutants on Gaia! They have just enough man left in them to be a nuisance!”

“Uh, Natoma,” Isaac began, cautiously stepping closer to her. “About that blessing you were talking about—”

“There’s no time for chit-chat, boy! Do what you must to find your friend, but I’m heading straight for the labs to find mine! We don’t have a lot of time left!” said the faunae. She let out a sharp whistle. “My children! Now we march! Let us liberate our loved ones from this den of evil!”

Every beast in the room swarmed around her paws like a swirling vortex. Even the werewolf stood up and obediently trailed her as she walked out the door, its eyes glowing as green as the rest.

The Freelance Good Guys stood there in the destroyed suite, now eerily silent in her absence. Each of them was armed and armored, with cloth masks hiding their identities. Natoma already agreed to shoulder the blame for all this, but they weren’t taking any chances. Whatever they intended to do here, it was far too late to turn back now.

“Well,” sighed Lukas, “let’s go get Evan.”

*

The lycanthropes paced around the cell block, trying to find another way out. They discussed intricate plans of escape with one another, while Evan preferred to ponder alone. He leaned against the steel door to the block, staring out at the hallway through the window.

This hunk of steel was the only thing separating him from freedom. The door did not have a keyhole of any kind, so he figured it must have opened remotely from the other side. If only there was some way to trigger the mechanism…

Evan lost his train of thought when he saw five figures appear on the other side. They were all wearing masks, but he’d recognize Isaac’s bizarre scythe anywhere. Isaac saw him too, for he briefly pulled his mask down and exclaimed, “Evan, it’s us! We’ll get you out, just stand back!”

Evan obeyed, taking three paces back. The blade of the scythe cut through the door from top to bottom, then back towards the top. Isaac gave it a kick and a rectangular piece of steel hit the floor with a heavy boom, leaving a man-sized gap in the door.

The other prisoners noticed instantly. Evan and the mercenaries scrambled out of their way as they stampeded out in a hairy, shouting, hulking flurry. They dispersed down the halls in different directions as alarms blared throughout the compound.

The mercenaries stepped through the gap to greet Evan. They recoiled at the sight of him, clad in a torn medical gown and soaked with blood, most of his hair fallen out with dark bags under his eyes.

“My god!” The words crept from Lukas’ lips in a whisper, nearly inaudible over the distant alarms. “Evan, what did they…?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine, really!” the captain insisted, planting his hands on his commander’s shoulders. He patted them to reassure him, then beckoned them further down the corridor. “Come on, I know a safer way out.”

They followed him back towards his cell, gasping at the sight before them. There lie two skeletonized guards in a pool of blood. The pool was smeared up the walls and even splattered onto the ceiling. A fearsome, indescribable creature was pacing in circles around the corpses. It saw the mercenaries and growled ferociously, launching itself at the bars.

“What the feck is _that_ thing?” blurted Glenvar.

“I don’t know. But I swear to you, what I’m about to do is an act of mercy,” Evan answered solemnly. He gently pulled the scythe from Isaac’s hands, and Isaac let him do so without question. Evan unlocked the cell door and stepped inside.

The battle was over with one slash. The creature’s head rolled across the floor while its deformed body collapsed, lying just an arm’s length from where Evan stood. Evan then used the scythe to cut through the bars under the spigot. Each bar fell away and splashed into the filthy water below.

“Oh no, you’ve got to be kidding me!” groaned Lukas. “We just tromped through a river of sewage to get here!”

Evan passed the scythe back to Isaac and said, “We’ve all had a rough day, friend. Suck it up.” With that, he jumped down and landed in murky, knee-deep water. Reluctantly his crew followed.

Jeimos lit the way with a magical flame. As they waded through the narrow maze, they could hear sounds of pandemonium above. People shouting, monkeys screeching, dogs barking, and the cries of many animals they couldn’t identify. They heard glass shattering and furniture crashing. For one brief moment, they heard Natoma’s distinct, shrill laughter.

“What did they do to you in there, Evan?” asked Isaac, looking the man up and down in disbelief.

Evan shook his head, replied, “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s just—ah! There we are!” He hurried towards a ladder in the distance.

Before he stepped on the first rung, Lukas stopped him and said, “Wait.” Then he took off his long, leather cloak and draped it over Evan.

It would conceal him well enough until they got back to the inn. Much less suspicious than torn, bloody medical garb, at least.

Evan pushed the manhole cover up and cautiously peeked outside, squinting at the bright afternoon light. He ducked as an animal leaped over him, a _setsiki_ with a paper bracelet on its wrist. It bolted across the busy street, spooking some horses pulling a carriage. Evan’s eyes rounded at the madness around him.

The once peaceful main street had become a zoo! Hundreds of monkeys, great apes, dogs, pigs, rats, and countless other animals were running loose, sending civilians running in fright. Evan turned towards the Athenaeum, sitting at the end of the street. It was clearly the source of the animals, as more were climbing over the gate with ease. Alarms blared and guards unsuccessfully scrambled to catch them.

If there was ever a moment to sneak away, it was now. Evan climbed out of the sewer and rushed to pull his crewmen out after him. Together they hurried away from the chaos towards the Uptown Inn.

*

Jelani was lounging on one of the couches in his Uptown suite, swirling a goblet of wine in his hand when the door swung open. He gasped, dropping his goblet at the sight of Evan, trudging inside with his crew in tow.

They were all filthy, but Evan was the filthiest of all. The captain grunted in pain as he shrugged off Lukas’ cloak and tossed it to the floor, exposing his bloodstained medical garb.

“Gods in the cosmos! Evan, what did they…? W-what happened to you in there?” exclaimed Jelani, scrambling off the couch. He ran towards the man as if to hug him, but quickly recoiled with a cough. “Ugh! Oh, love, you smell horrible!”

A half-hearted smile crossed Evan’s face. “Worse than usual, huh?” he jested. The smell of sewage, sweat, and gore was radiating off the entire crew, so they quickly excused themselves to wash and change.

“I, uh, really need to get in the bath,” Evan told Jelani. There was a sheepish note in his voice behind all the exhaustion. “I promise, I’ll answer everyone’s questions tomorrow. I just need to rest for a bit.”

Jelani nodded, muttering, “Yes, of course.” His face was wrinkled with concern as he watched Evan disappear into one of the three washrooms in the luxury suite.

Right after his bath, Evan collapsed onto one of the beds and instantly fell asleep, wrapped in a fluffy, orange, complimentary robe. He woke late the next morning, but so did the rest of the crew. He was lured out of bed by the smell of simmering bacon and found them all eating breakfast at the big, round table.

Jelani was among them. He gestured to the empty seat and greeted, “Good morning, sunshine! Your man Glenvar here just slaved over breakfast like a common house hob. Come get it while it’s hot!”

Evan rubbed the sleep from his scratchy eyes as he sat down. A generous helping of food sat before him: a plate piled high with bacon strips, a hot buttered bun, four boiled eggs, and three heavy slices of honeydew melon. A big step up from greasy kibble, he thought.

A weary smile crossed Evan’s face. His voice was just as weary when he said, “Wow! Thank you, Glen. This looks delicious.”

“Get yer fill, there’s plenty!” Glenvar told him over a bite of egg, white bits flying from his mouth. “Jelani sent his goons out fer groceries ‘n they came back with the whole market!”

Across the table, Isaac had barely touched his food. His nose was buried in a Matuzan newspaper, which had just hit their doorstep a few minutes ago. He gasped, “Guys! Look, look, there’s an article about Natoma! Right on the front page!”

A round of chatter spread around the table. Isaac slapped the paper down on the table, pointing to the article. “It says, ‘… _A dangerous criminal has been apprehended after escaping Matuzu Capital Prison…_ ’ Blah, blah, blah. ‘… _She has been identified as Natoma the Shrill, more famously known as ‘The Rat Queen’. Natoma was found guilty of murder earlier this year_ …’ Blah, blah. ‘… _The World Athenaeum’s medical research wing suffered heavy damage in the attack. Over thirty staff members are confirmed dead, with four missing. Among the missing is Dr. Thaddeus Lendon, a famed researcher specializing in the study and treatment of lycanthropy_ …’”

“Son of a bitch,” Evan muttered under his breath, then stuffed a strip of bacon in his mouth.

Isaac silently skimmed the rest of the article and summarized, “Okay, basically it says a ton of lab animals escaped and they’re still trying to catch them. Apparently some of them might be infected with weird diseases, so they’re telling everyone to report any strange animal sightings to the Matuzu Guard.”

Alaine chuckled, “Ha! Fat chance. Run, monkeys, run!”

Isaac continued, “Says here some people are already trying to sue the Athenaeum, saying they were held captive and stuff. Evan, you gotta join them! Sue the shit out of those assholes!”

“Isaac, watch your language,” Evan scolded.

Jelani quickly added, “Absolutely not! Don’t you dare speak a word against the Athenaeum! The Matuzan legal system will chew you up and spit you out like a siege dragon. Those poor folks don’t stand a chance, no matter how much evidence they have.”

“What do you mean? Look at him!” said Alaine, throwing a hand towards Evan. “The state of him is proof enough! Those sickos need to pay for what they did!”

Lukas shook his head and broke in, “Well, they won’t. This is Matuzu Kingdom. The ones with the most money speak the loudest, and High King Marghan would sooner slam his pecker in a door than admit fault with the Athenaeum. It’s the pride and joy of this kingdom.”

“The Athenaeum’s lawyers will take those people to court, probably counter-sue them, and then have them arrested for treason against the kingdom or some such nonsense,” grumbled Jelani. “That’s the way things work here. I’m sorry to say you’ll leave this situation with your life and nothing more, Atlas.”

Evan let out a long sigh from the depths of his belly. “After what I’ve just been through, that’s good enough for me,” he said.

*

The group was ready to leave Matuzu Capital that evening. Jelani was destined for Uekoro while the Freelance Good Guys planned to head back to Drifter’s Hollow. There was certainly no rest to be had in this city. Not anymore.

They travelled together to the dragonport, and then it was time to go their separate ways. Jelani waved his soldiers towards their dragon to get a moment alone with Evan. The mercenary captain’s crew was already waiting for him in Shadow’s gazebo.

Jelani stood before the man and sighed, “I suppose this is goodbye.”

“I suppose so,” Evan replied quietly. He was dressed in his own clothes, his hair already grown back and neatly trimmed. Yet something still seemed haggard about his appearance since he left the Athenaeum. Jelani couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps the look on his face or the way he carried himself.

“Will you be alright?” Jelani asked, taking Evan’s hands in his own.

Evan nodded, offering a smile. “Only if you are.”

“Everything’s right with me, love,” Jelani assured him. “I’m sorry about, uh, you know. In Uekoro.” He tipped his head vaguely towards the north, where his city lie across the river. “I thought I would never forgive you, but when Lukas told me what those bastards did…”

He gave his head a shake, expression strained. “Nevermind. What I’m trying to say is, being apart from you still hurts me, whether you love me or not. I was miserable after you left! It hurts even now, knowing you’re leaving yet again!”

Evan stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug. Jelani squeezed him back without hesitation. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” Evan told him. “Maybe we’re not meant to be soulmates, but I’ll always care about you. I’d love to come back and see you again, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I would!” exclaimed Jelani. He withdrew and planted his hands on Evan’s shoulders. “What I said before all this mess still stands. You’re welcome in my palace any time. I’d miss your company too much to ever banish you.” He grinned. “Besides, I need someone to humble me in the arena once in a while. Keeps my ego in check.”

“Gods know your head is big enough,” Evan teased, knocking on the king’s bald head. Jelani laughed, adjusting his beaded crown. He took an anxious swipe at his neck. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around Evan’s shoulders and pulled him into a deep, lingering kiss.

Though reluctant, Evan returned it until Jelani pulled away and asked quietly, “So, are we still friends?”

“Undoubtedly.” Evan smiled.

The king’s lips spread into a hopeful grin when he added, “And does this friendship come with… _benefits_?”

Evan’s smile faltered. He paused for an awkward moment, for he hadn’t decided himself. He had two heads pulling him in separate directions. He listened to the wrong one last time and that’s what got him into this mess in the first place.

He decided to listen to the other when he answered, “I’m sorry, Jelani. It’s nothing against you, not by any means! You’re _amazing_. You know, in, uh, that respect…” He raised a hand to clear his throat, trying to hide the pink blush burning on his cheeks. “I’m just looking for something else, that’s all.”

Jelani fought to keep his smile, though his eyes were suddenly doleful. “I understand,” he said, patting the captain on the shoulder. “You’re a good guy, Atlas. You’ll find who you’re looking for someday. He’ll be a lucky man to have you.”

“Thanks, Jelani. May your future be as bright as that shiny, bald head of yours,” Evan told him. Jelani let out a hearty laugh as they began walking their separate ways.

Evan was barely ten paces away when Jelani called to him, “Hey, Atlas!”

Evan stopped, turning to face him. “Yes?”

“When you say I’m ‘amazing’…” Jelani began, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “Do you mean, say, more amazing than most?”

Evan silently laughed, scrubbing at his eyes. “By a long shot,” he answered.

Jelani nodded, scratching at his chin. But he wasn’t yet satisfied. He asked, “Would you say I was more amazing than…oh, I don’t know...” He raised his eyebrows, mouth hanging open slightly in a sly, expectant kind of grin. As if he expected Evan to know exactly what he was talking about.

And Evan did, loathed as he was to admit it. “Yes, you’re more _amazing_ than Lukas,” he sighed. Jelani’s face lit up like the sun. The king pumped his fists, jumping and whooping at the sky in glee.

Evan shook his head, already walking away as Jelani pointed towards Shadow’s gazebo and shouted, “Did you hear that, brother? I win! You lose! Jelani one, Lukas zero! Whooo!”

Evan rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He supposed Jelani deserved some small victory after a lifetime of being compared to his brother and getting bodied in the sparring arena.

The captain stepped into the gazebo with his crew, who were already in the middle of a game of cards. Lukas heard his brother cheering in the distance, but couldn’t make out his words over the wind.

“What’s that idiot yelling about over there?” the archer queried dully, tossing another card in the pile.

Evan sat beside him and replied, “Nothing. Anyway, Jelani and I managed to patch things up nicely. We’re officially welcome back in Uekoro.”

A round of cheers swelled over the crew. Isaac withdrew from the card game to climb into Shadow’s saddle, piloting the roc into the evening sky. It was a world of golden light fading into vivid blue, with the lush, green jungle passing by below.

Evan appreciated its beauty from the window, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His crew continued their game on the floor, laughing and chattering amongst themselves. Bad memories of Dr. Lendon’s lab nudged at his mind incessantly.

Evan focused harder on the scenery outside and tried to push them away with happy memories. Memories of his greatest adventures, his most passionate nights, his best exotic meals…

“Jackpot! All mine, boys!” announced Alaine, laughing deviously as she scooped the pile of silver coins closer. She turned to Evan and asked, “Hey, Atty, are you sure you don’t want to—” She cut herself off, cocking her head in concern. “Evan? You okay?”

The rest of the crew turned his way, observing as he clutched his chest with his trembling hand. His expression was strained, eyes screwed shut, breathing hard through his nostrils.

“Woah, woah, Evan! What’s wrong?” queried Lukas, scrambling to his feet. He placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, keeping him steady as he wobbled on his feet. Evan tried to wave him away, sliding down the wall into a sitting position.

“I’m fine! I’m good,” the captain wheezed. The others weren’t so convinced as he sat there and gnashed his teeth in pain, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths.

“Evan—” Alaine began, but he interrupted,

“Stress, stress, it’s just stress! P-panic attack, I think!”

“This doesn’t seem quite like a panic attack,” mentioned Jeimos, wringing their hands in rapid circles. “And believe me, if anyone knows panic attacks, it’s Jeimos Paramonimos!”

After a moment, the captain’s breaths evened out and the color slowly returned to his face. His rigid, trembling body finally relaxed. Only then did his crew feel secure enough to relax too. Lukas kneeled beside him, rubbing his back as he said, “It’s been a rough few days. I think you should take a break when we get home.”

Evan was too tired to argue, all the energy suddenly sapped from his veins. He nodded, replied, “Yes. Okay. I’ll just stick to the office for a few days and—”

“No. No office work either,” Lukas told him sternly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Ginger and I will push papers. Just relax, alright? Hunt game, go fishing, tend the garden. But if I catch you even looking at that office, I’m going to lose my boot in your ass! Are we clear?”

Evan wiped the sweat off his gleaming face. “Crystal,” he muttered behind his palm. Stress, indeed.

Drifter’s Hollow awaited him a continent away. He thought it funny, and perhaps a little upsetting, how he’d been searching for love in every exotic, foreign corner of the world when his true love had been back home all along.

He couldn’t wait to kiss the dirt.

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every adventure leaves its scars. Did Evan really get away from Dr. Lendon unscathed? And what happened to the doctor anyway? Subscribe to the series to find out!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it! Please leave a kudos if you enjoyed the story, and feedback is always appreciated. Stay safe everyone. <3


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